


La famille de l'ABC

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Awkward Boners, Awkward Flirting, Boys Will Be Boys, Courfeyrac playbook, Crushes!, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Eponine is pathetic, Eventual Enjolras/Grantaire, F/M, Friendship, Fun, Fun read, Grantaire and Azelma friendship, Hurt and comfort, I WANT YOU TO READ THIS, I recommend this..., Injury, LGBTQ, Laughter, M/M, Multi, Rape Aftermath, Spin the Bottle, This will be long, besties, but recovery!, combeferre is jealous, courfy!, enjolras wig, eventually they will all live together, everyone is pathetic, fluff and semi smut, group date, kudos and I will give you a cookie, more tags to come, musichetta pines, please give kudos!, pretty Azelma, suggestions please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 123,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Les Amis de l'ABC is like a family. A very incestuous family...<br/>College is a tough time for some, your first taste of freedom, demanding courses, experimenting...... But friends like Les Amis get through all the bad times, fight for their rights, fall in love and above all laugh. The summary does not do this fic justice believe me. Please read!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I've been working on this fanfiction for a while and decided I could start posting! Yay! It's a college Au and I need your feedback! This includes: Kudos, comments, SUGGESTIONS and even hate-letters (even though I don't want that.) Ok please no hate-letters but constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms! This is about Marius and Azelma meeting these lovely people

Marius Pontmercy was the perfect example of an innocent, uncorrupted homeschooled child. Not teenager, nor young adult because of his innocence. But today, yes this very wintry Monday of early December, he would dive straight into college nose first, nearly four months late. Up until he stepped onto the frosty school grounds he was a sheltered home-schooled freak who had never even seen a public school, but everything was about to become very different for Marius. 

Marius slowly trudge up the stairwell, towing his belongings up with him tiredly. When he finally arrived at his dorm he set down his stuff and dug in his pocket for his key. He drove it into the lock. This was going to be the start of a new life for Marius. He was sure his innocence would be washed away by partying with his new College friends. Soon he would have the life he always wanted all it would take was the turn of his key and then the knob, a little push and he was there. 

"What the-" A man laying on the bed opposite of the door cursed at him as the woman in a sort of high push-up position over him fell on top of him. In panic he tossed the woman of the bed and his hands hurriedly covered his crotch in pain of her impact.  
"Oh my god!" he wailed "What are you doing?"

Marius knew what was going, its not like he didn't now what sex was, he just chose to ignore its very existence.  
"Um I uh- I just- I'm your- your new- um-r-roommate." Marius was blushing uncontrollably, he was so embarrassed, he just ruined his chances on having a great "Chandler and Joey" type roommate relationship. He was so sorry. He never had to handle an awkward situation like this. He looked like he was going to burst Into tears  
"I'm s-sorry. I'll just go!" He croaked. Before he set is tears free he stormed out and down the hall. He wasn't in the mood to pull all his stuff down the stairs, Marius plopped down in the hall. Burying his head into his knees, he cried about getting off on the wrong foot.

Back at the room, the man who scolded poor Marius was being slapped by the prostitute who he threw on the floor.  
"You jerk, you threw me on the floor and than scared the poor baby!" She continued rapidly swatted at him "I can't believe you Grantaire! Go out there and apologize! Now." the prostitute tied up her white silky robe and stomped out the door. 

"Wait I need to pay you!" He followed her to the door digging in his wallet.

"No, what you need to do is fix this. He's just a boy! This one's on me you stupid drunk bastard!" As she swaggered down the hall way, Grantaire ran his fingers through his curly black hair in stress. Her high heel clicking came to a halt when she reached Marius. She crouched down and consoled him. 

The prostitute wasn't just any girl he picked up off the street, they were actually good friends and this morning, friends with benefits, well pricey benefits. She was called Eponine, she was spunky and all around beautiful with her own unique flare. She only offered her services to her group of friends, so she wasn't much of a prostitute. He really didn't care about the physical interaction rather seeing a naked body, studying it and later recreating it in his sketch pad, he suffered through the stuff he actually paid for normally.

Grantaire sighed, Eponine was right, he had to fix this. Reluctantly, he walked out and spotted the little balled up boy. Soon he was sitting beside him in his boxers and a white wife-beater.  
"Hey."

"Hi." He sniffled

"Sorry I yelled at you." He said sincerely "I just- wasn't expecting company." They both laughed a bit and Grantaire slung his arm around Marius's narrow but attractive shoulders.

"It's alright. I deserved it. I was the one who burst in when you were well- um..." He started to feel heat fill his face.

"Hey, it wasn't a big deal. She was just a prostitute." When Grantaire said the word prostitute Marius was shocked. "It's not like I'm some kind of pimp, I just like drawing women and I needed some inspiration. I don't even like having sex with them that much!" He tried to lighten the mood. "Here, c'mon, I'll show you what I mean." Grantaire dragged Marius to the dorm. Marius wasn't sure what he meant and frankly was a little worried he was gonna get raped. 

When they reached the room, Grantaire knelt down and dug underneath his bed. Finally he returned with a tattered sketch pad.  
"Take a look" He said flipping through the pages. All of the pictures were naked women. Marius was clearly uncomfortable with Grantaire's very detailed, near perfect drawings of naked women. 

"Are they all- you know." Marius cleared his throat somewhere between all and you. 

"Prostitues?" Grantaire inferred.

"Yeah those."

"Yep. Looky here! Isn't she hot?" Grantaire growled in arousal 

"Um, I'm really not comfortable with this." Marius admitted shyly.

"Priss" He murmured shutting his book. 

"So, I guess we're roommates. Are there any-"

"Actually, what's your name?"

"Marius. And yours?" Marius just realized neither of them have exchanged names.

"Grantaire, but anyways Marius, we aren't really roommate's. I moved into this dorm with Courfeyrac when my roommate got aggresive. But now that your here, I might be heading out." He uncapped a bottle of alcohol. "Courf should be here soon, for now just try not to run out crying again." He said carelessly.

Marius sat on what must be Courfeyrac's bed, a little pained by the last comment, he quietly twiddled his thumbs. Grantaire continued gulping done alcohol for a little bit until he started a conversation.

"Marius, I like you, your a little sensitive but I think your bro material." Grantaire said exciting Marius a little too much. "Don't get your hopes up kid, you still have to prove yourself. But hey, if you want to come get lunch with me and the guys, you can- as long as you don't piss me off." he warned trying not to come of too soft. 

Before he could respond, the door swung open. A dashing burnette with dark hazel eyes and a canvas messenger bag danced his way.  
"I made that test my bitch!" Courfeyrac snapped in time to his jazzy dancing. The happy dancing ended. 

"Why are you in your underwear?" Courfeyrac pivoted slightly and saw the adorable little Marius poised on the his bed. Viciously he flipped around to face Grantaire  
"Oh my god Grantaire, a high schooler? You had sex with a little high schooler? This is an all time low! Even for you!" He directed his attention back to Marius. 

"Hi sweetie, I'm sorry about my friend. He probably took advantage of you, since you were probably questioning your sexuality. But please don't press charges. He really is a-"

He was cut of by Grantaire. "Hey doofus, he's not a high schooler, he's our new room mate. Oh and by the way, I didn't have sex with him. I was with Eponine." 

"Oh sorry, that's to both of you. Grantaire, sorry I assumed the worst of you and um....." He was searching for a clue to his new room mate's name

"Marius." The cutest of the boys prompted.

"Yeah, uh Marius, sorry that I thought you were a high schooler searching for your sexual identity."

"It's okay" Marius forced a wide smile.

"Whatever." Grantaire grumbled. For a moment, the room was silent. Marius then got up the courage to ask something that he was not at all comfortable with asking.

"I'm really sorry to ask. But are you-you know homosexual?" He whispered the term. 

"What makes you think that? The fact that Courfeyrac accused me of basically raping you or when I said I suffer through sex with FEMALE prostitutes?" He laughed. Marius still looked like his question was unanswered. "I'm sort of Bi. I like girls because of boobs and guys because they don't get periods." Both Courfeyrac and Grantaire chuckled. 

Periods were one thing that Marius was particularly uncomfortable discussing. He quickly changed the subject. 

"So how is this going to work? You know our sleeping arrangement?" Marius casually asked.

"Simple, we'll get you sleeping bag at Wal-Mart." Grantaire sipped some more out his bottle "Roll it out real nice on the floor." Courfeyrac looked annoyed.

"Grantaire, this actually IS Marius's room, you chose to give up your bed-right at Montparnsse's dorm. You can sleep on the floor." 

"Hey, I'm your guest though! If you don't want Marius on the floor, then you should be the one to give up your bed or you and gerber baby here can be sleepy-time cuddle buddies in YOUR bed. Bet you'd like to wrap your legs around a little slice like that at night, huh?" Grantaire wagged the bottle at Courfeyrac and on words such as 'Gerber baby' and 'Little slice' he used the bottle to point at Marius.

The pale of Marius's cheeks returned to the red the two other boys were getting used to.  
"So um does that mean you like guys like Grantaire does?" Marius didn't make eye contact.

"Well yeah, I'm bi too." Courfeyrac was slightly embarrassed, something he never was about his sexuality. "And we totally understand if you're uncomfortable with this and I'm sure that if you go to the office and explain the situation they'd let you switch dorms and we can just pretend this whole thing never happened." Courfeyrac rambled with great speed and diction. 

Marius thought it through, he never pictured himself sharing a room with a pair of guys who were interested in both men and women. But Grantaire had promised him lunch with his friends, and they couldn't all be gay. Besides he was in no place to pass up friends. "No really, I trust you guys. Its cool." Marius confirmed. 

"Well, that brings us back to sleeping arrangements" Grantaire groaned. 

"Grantaire there is nothing to discuss, your giving up your bed, but if it helps, I could...." He opened up the closet and pulled up some bed attachments that when properly conjoined with a bed would make it tall and classified as a loft bed. "Put these on my bed and we can get you a mattress and put it underneath. You know to save room." 

Grantaire gave in, but not with out pouting.  
"Whatever." Grantaire threw his bottle into the trash can with a force that caused it to shatter loudly. 

"Don't mind him, he's a bitter drunk." Courfeyrac glared at Grantaire. "So what are you doing here? You know what's your major? Why did you come here late?"

Marius calmly folded his hands in his lap and answered the questions to the best of his ability. "Well I am majoring in English. But I may double major in education so I can be a teacher. But I'm really not sure, I may just write. I came late because my Grandfather, who raised me, needed some convincing I could handle being independ. So now for the very first time, I'm not homeschooled!" Marius rejoiced. 

Courfeyrac congratulated Marius on his first real day of school when Grantaire started yelling at them to get off their asses and go with him to lunch with the guys Marius was so excited to meet. Grantaire swung the door open and held it while Courfeyrac stepped out and Marius trotted out behind him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Eponine reached her dorm and promptly began to plan her outfit for the day. Cosette, her beautiful blond roommate laid on her stomach reading some girly romance novel.  
"Where were you this morning?" Cosette said turning the page of her book not even bothering to look up. Eponine pushed hangers apart to get a better look at a contender for her outfit today. She held it up against herself. Looking in the mirror she replied,

"Around." She said causally. Cosette wasn't satisfied with the answer.

"You weren't doing the whole weird prostitution, friends with benefits thing? Those guys aren't the kind of boys you should be hanging around if they make or even let you do this to your self." Cosette bookmarked her page and shut her book. Eponine put the shirt back in its place and continued searching through her closet.  
"Those guys are perfectly kind to me. I don't need you watching out for me." She insisted inspecting a dress.

"I think you do. Prostitution is a tragedy. My mother-" Cosette began.

"I know, I know, your mom was a hooker and then on a totally unrelated note, she died. I'm fine Cosette, really." Eponine found a stain on the dress causing her to groan and tuck it away. Cosette still was concerned. But she took the hint and continued reading. For a few seconds....

"But Eponine, you really should take sex more seriously. It shouldn't be just an everyday meaningless exchange between friends. It should be special, with some one you love!" Cosette tried to persuade Eponine.

"Wow, now I know why your a virgin." Eponine rolled her eyes.

"Virgin and proud!" She happily confessed. Eponine looked annoyed. "Oh your just jealous because you wasted your first time on some jerk in a port-a-potty at a screamo concert. Besides I'm waiting until marriage." Cosette looked proud of her commitment to her virginity. 

"Loser" Eponine said in a throaty, booming voice with her hands cupped around her mouth. 

"Stop! I don't need your negative attitude today. I'm meeting with my Papa today and I am planning on asking him if I am allowed to date yet!" She squealed at the idea of an epic romance just like the ones she read about in her collection of novels. 

"Wow Cosette! That's great! Then are you gonna bring some prissy boy to him to ask your papa's permission to start courting you?" Eponine sarcastically enthused. Cosette rolled her shimmering bluish green eyes.

"No don't be silly!" Cosette giggled giving Eponine hope that Cosette wasn't a complete loser. "You don't bring a guy to your Papa to ask permission, he goes to him alone!" Cosette corrected. 

"Oh my God!" Eponine was exasperated. "Your so old-fashioned! I bet you that your Papa is gonna go to all biblical on you. You know, take you from some random prostitute, raise you as a goody-goody, than bam! De-virgin-atize you."

Cosette was infuriated by this theory. "You do not have the right to talk about my Papa like that! And you never call someone's dead mother 'some random prostitute!' She did what she had to do, she wasn't just a slut like you! I can't believe you'd bring my mother in to this! I struggled with her death for so long!" She wailed.

"You didn't even know her!" Eponine barked.

"That's what bugs me so much about her death! Gosh 'Ponine! I grew up without of a mother! And on top of that, the first few years of my life sucked, because of YOUR parents!" Cosette fought back.

"Oh I'm so sorry that you lived with my parents for like three years. TOPS!" The sarcasm was obvious. "But I lived with them my whole life! Get over yourself!" She was almost sweating with anger. 

"At least they loved you!"

"Loved me? You honestly thought you were the only they beat? They only acted like they loved me in front of you to make you feel bad! I'm just happy I made it out of there alive!"  
Cosette was visibly upset, nearly tearful. It was painfully silent for a long moment.

"'Ponine, we have to stop fighting like this." she struggled to keep calm. "I'm just going to step out until I come back from my day out with Papa. I'll just take my stuff and be on my way." Cosette gathered her things and escaped before she started letting the tears flow.

Eponine sighed and flopped on her bed. She wasn't glad she had upset Cosette, actually she was angry and very disheartened. Soon there was a faint knock at the door which was likely from Cosette's dainty hand.  
"Cosette, if that's you, and you forgot your stupid key I swear-" She opened the door and instead of Cosette, a smaller, younger version of herself stood in front of her. 

"Azelma!" Eponine wrapped her in a hug. When she released she saw that Azelma had been crying. "What's wrong?" Her tone shifted. 

"Nothing." She faked joy "Just wanted to drop by for a visit." Azelma lied.

"Without calling first? Before noon? No, that's not like you. Something's wrong. And you'll tell me right now or I'll call mom and dad right now!" The older of the two sisters threatened. 

"Fine," She looked very uneasy. "but can we shut the door first?" Eponine led Azelma into her dorm by the hand and set her on the bed. She proceeded to shut the door and take her seat at the desk at the foot of the bed. 

"Alright, so what's up?" Eponine was sitting so the chair's back rest was in front of her, in between her legs. She leaned on the top of the back rest to show just who ready she was to engage in this revealing conversation.

"Well lately-" Azelma started.

"Cut the crap. If I want hear the whole story, I'll ask." Eponine's patience decreased.

"Ok, here it goes. I ran away from home!" Azelma ducked down and craddled her skull, a reflex caused by fear of constant beatings.

"Oh Azelma, couldn't you just have waited a few more years until you were old enough to move out?" She plopped her self on the bed to comfort the troubled teen.

"No!" She sobbed. "Because that's not even the worst part! I did something like really bad and I was scared of how they'd react." She wiped away the tears smearing her running mascara. 

"What did you do?" Eponine ventured into the conversation. 

"I'm pregnant!" The little, hardly sixteen year old bawled. Eponine was stunned. She had no idea what to do. Her baby sister's life was slowly self-destructing and all she could say was,

"Who did this to you?" With such fury it rattled poor Azelma. Eponine was confidant her little sister was raped. In there house, it wasn't unlikely.

"One of Dad's friends," Eponine waited for a name. "The young one, Montparnasse." Azelma at last admitted. "I was staying with him for a while, and he was always very, forward. He told me he loved me and wouldn't let my parents find me ever again. He was really very protective. He wouldn't let me go to the shower alone. I thought it was because we were in a boy's hallway but one day he opened the curtain and it just got bad." Azelma recalled her tragic experience.

Eponine, who was furious, stood up and paced in frustration.  
"I can't believe this!" Eponine growled. Quickly she breathed in deeply to collect herself, noticing she needed to handle this better for her little sister's sake.  
"Azelma, I'm really glad you came to me. But you know Montparnasse goes to school here and he won't be happy you left. So we're going to have to change your look a little to make sure he doesn't recognize you. And don't worry, I have some really intimidating friends." Eponine cradled Azelma.

"You're going to give me a make over?" She sniffled.

"Yeah, sound's fun? Right?" Eponine stood pulling out a drawer, taking out a straightener and uncoiling the cord from around the straightener.  
"First, lose the curly bun and let's get down to straightening." For the next hour and a half, Eponine kindly groomed her sister, partly to make Azelma feel a little better but also for security.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grantaire and Courfeyrac laughed about what their friends might think about their new little pal. 

"I think Jehan will like him." Courfeyrac said recovering from his giggles. "They're a lot alike, sensitive, innocent and obviously a virgin." He smiled at Marius who tried to look away. 

"So, your friends sound like an interesting bunch." Marius cleared his throat. "But this Joly kid kind of worries me. Is he really going to have me medically tested before I even sit by him?" Grantaire and Courfeyrac couldn't control their laughter.

"Joly really isn't that bad, but it's still a very real possibility. He won't want to catch anything from you." Courfeyrac teased.

"Maybe he'll be open to catching his good looks." Grantaire grunted confusing Marius greatly. 

"What do you mean?" Marius questioned as they strolled down the hall.

"Well Marius, your basically as good looking as an Abercrombie and Fitch model and Joly is well- not so much." Grantaire bluntly put. "He's seriously not ugly though."

All the sudden the three boys were in a Café off the main campus. It was dimly lit and full of laughter and the mingling scents of baked goods and fancy coffee. In the center was a large rectangular table that was really a few tables pushed together. Feuilly was ranting about Poland with Bossuet, Joly was explaining cell mutation related disorders to some over the phone. Jehan, at one of the ends of the table, was scribbling a new peon into his notebook while Combeferre returned with a steaming drink.

"And then there's Progeria, and that is when the- Oh look what that cat dragged in. A little piece of crap, a new pretty flower, and Grantaire!" He pretended to puked into his back pack, after hanging up.

"Very funny guys." Grantaire plopped down and popped open a flask. In a split second, Grantaire, had pressed the flask to his lips and emptied it successfully. To make sure all the contains slithered down his throat, he tipped upside down over one hand and tapped three times, a few drops of alcohol land on his palm creating a small pond which he carefully lapped up. 

The ritual seemed odd to Marius but the others looked accustomed to it.

"Guys, this is Marius!" Courfeyrac presented him. Jehan looked the most excited of all as predicted. But not for the reasons Grantaire and Courfeyrac had thought.

"Courfeyrac! I'm so happy for you!" He stood up and hugged him tightly even about to go for his usual kiss on the cheek until he decided against it. "Guess I won't be doing that anymore!" He referred to the kiss, blushing at his near mistake. "Not with your new boyfriend and all!" He released from his friendly embraced and moved on to Marius. "Congratulations!" He squealed wrapping his arms around the very attractive new group member. "Ooo Courfeyrac! His a cute one!" He went on inspecting Marius.

"Jehan!" He tried to interrupt his fun but failed.

"Now you take care of my Courfy, ok?" He dusted of Marius's shoulder. He felt the faint definition of muscle along his harm. "And he's strong! You really scored with this one Courfeyrac!" He turned his head to Courfeyrac.

"Jehan!"

"You know he may not seem like it, but he's really romantic! It's going to be like living in a romance novel! Oh Marius, your so, so lucky!" He squeaked. 

"Jehan!" He finally got his attention.

"What?"

"Marius is just my room mate, we aren't dating!" He watched as Jehan disappointedly sat down again. When Courfeyrac was looking towards the other end of the table, Jehan flashed Marius the call me sign. Maybe they were all gay, he thought.

"Alright Marius, this is Combeferre, he's like 6' 4", super athletic, but is basically a major nerd."

"Hello, nice to meet you and by the way, if your straight, don't worry, your not the only one." He shook his hand with a chuckle. Thank god! He mouthed just to Combeferre. 

"This is Joly." Marius reached for his hand.

"Don't touch me." He said making an X with his arms. He retracted his hand and Courfeyrac moved down the line. 

"This Bossuet, him and Joly are best friends. But he has super bad luck." Courfeyrac summarized.

"Especially with the ladies" Grantaire grunted. Bossuet ignored Grantaire's remark and proceeded to greet Marius. Feuilly looked at his phone. 

"Oh shit guys, I'm really sorry! I have to go to work!" He apologized about to stand. Courfeyrac pushed him back in his chair. 

"I haven't introduced you to Marius!" Courfeyrac whined. Feuilly got up and started to leave. 

"Here, I'll do it on my way out. Name's Feuilly, I don't go to school but I do work a bunch and get paid next to nothing!" He rapidly shook Marius's hand. "See you around." He closed with. Sprinting, he nearly ran into the door without opening it first.

"And this is Jehan, you know the little hopeless romantic poet who thought we were a thing?" He reminded making Jehan blush as he was very shy and innocent like Marius. Holding a bottle that seemed to come out of no where, Grantaire stood and gestured to Courfeyrac. 

"And this is Courfeyrac, the creepy thing that goes off and flirts with everyone, chick, dude, straight, gay, human, robot, cat, dog, fire hydrant, lamp, tree, you name it and he's de-virgin-atized it! Now shake hands!" He cheered giving the whole group a good laugh. Courfeyrac had a comeback ready but waited until the laughter went down so everyone could hear it.

"Well at least I haven't spent years flirting with the same guy, who by the way is still not interested." That stung a little but Grantaire took it alright. "Speaking of Enjolras." Courfeyrac hissed as Enjolras entered the café.

He's very presence demanded and deserved everyone's full attention. His perfectly curly golden hair framing an intensely beautiful face that was home to a pair of piercing blue eyes. For a moment Grantaire couldn't breath. Nothing on earth had the right to be so perfect, so brilliant, to in trance some one so much. Enjolras was the one thing a cynic like Grantaire could believe in. He was amazed by his passion for making the world free and as magnificent as himself. Maybe that's why he believed in him, because he thought that maybe Enjolras would be able to make the whole world as enthralling as him. Grantaire tried not to stare as he took a seat across from him. Combeferre broke the spell cast upon Grantaire by interrupting the perfect silence.

"Enjolras, you look upset, what's wrong?"

"Nothing" He grumbled.

"Enjolras, I know you're upset, just tell me what's wrong!" Combeferre persisted. Enjolras tried to keep control as sometimes the passion that burned inside him, that he saved for his causes, would escape in a seemingly friendly conversation.

"I don't want to talk about it." Combeferre backed down. But poor little Jehan was determined to get him to open up. 

"Sweetie, we're your friends, you can tell us anything!" He tried to comfort him.

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" He snapped. Jehan was shaken by the yelling, almost to the point of tears. Combeferre shot Enjolras a look that read: You Jerk! Go give that kid a hug and fix this! Enjolras sighed and went to Jehan's chair. Reluctantly, he knelt beside him.  
"I'm sorry. I lost my temper."

"Big time." Joly muttered.

"Big time." Enjolras sadly agreed. "Now um.... hug?" He asked Jehan. Jehan nodded and dove into Enjolras's arms.

"I'd kiss you right now, but I know how that makes you feel." Jehan always kissed people on the cheek except for Enjolras. When the hug was over Grantaire felt an involuntary ping of jealousy that he tried to drown in a fresh bottle of vodka. Courfeyrac wouldn't let this little incident interfere with his introducing duties.

"Hey, you, Mr. grumpy-pants!" Courfeyrac called for Enjolras. "Meet my new buddy, Marius!" He threw his arm around Marius.

"Oh um, congrats, Courf, best of luck on your relationship." Enjolras tried not to be awkward like he usually was about romance and sexuality. Jehan snorted in a sudden rush of laughter.

"Jehan, your one to laugh, you thought they were a couple too!" Bossuet reminded him of his fault. Enjolras looked puzzled.

"He's just his new room mate!" Jehan clarified

"Not just a room mate, a member of the team!" Courfeyrac corrected. When the door abruptly opened behind the still standing Marius and Courfeyrac, took a seat. Eponine was pulling a pretty little thing behind her, they walked hand-in-hand to the table. The younger of the two was wearing skin tight galaxy jeans and flowy cream button up top. Her makeup looked natural and her hair was thick, straightened and the same shade of blackish brown as Eponine's with a purple bow headband.

"Who's the sexy little baby?" Grantaire almost growled. He called her a baby because she obviously was too young to be in college. 

"Grantaire! This is my little sister! And I forbid you to flirt with her! You too, Courfeyrac!" She said sternly. Shifted her tone to something calmer, she began to speak again, "Her names Azelma, she's sixteen and she's going to be living with me for a while. She used to date Montparnasse and they're not on 'good terms', so we need to keep her safe ok?" She side-stepped the whole pregnancy-rape topic casually. 

"Wow! Two new people in one day! Eponine this is Marius! He's my new room mate." He said proudly standing to introduce Marius again.

"I know, we've meet, we used to be neighbors." Eponine said casually. Azelma looked like she was hypnotized by something or someone at the table. She shook her head, banishing the thoughts and looked down at the floor. 

"Well, I think this calls for a little celebration." Grantaire bounced to his feet "And we all know my favorite way to celebrate!" He pointed to his bottle. "But tonight I'm in the mood for my second favorite way to celebrate, lazar tag!" He hollered happily accepting everyone's loud praise for his suggestion. Azelma looked a bit sick but still excited about laser tag. "So it's settled? Lazar tag, everyone meet here at 11:30!" He announced. "That's alright, right?" He asked for Enjolras's approval and permission, he nodded. 

Eponine whispered to Azelma, "Are you alright?" she nodded quickly. "Let's sit down" She looked concerned. She pulled out Azelma's chair for her and then sat next to her. 

"What's wrong with the super-do-able-high-school-chick?" Grantaire sounded generally worried about Azelma's well-being. But Eponine of course wasn't pleased with the nickname so she shot Grantaire a look. Before Eponine could represent her sister, Azelma, who was never very independent answered for herself. 

"Just a little sick feeling." She answered confidently. Joly stepped in immediately, as a nursing major, he naturally wanted to help as much as he can.

"Is your stomach hurting? What about your head? Are you nauseous? Do you experience dizziness upon standing? You're awfully thin, have you lost weight unexpectedly in the past month? Are you menstruating?" He questioned rapidly. Eponine smacked her hand firmly against his fast moving mouth and interrupted him before her little sister could answer. 

"Whoa there Joly, most of that is major 'None of your business' information. I know your a nursing major and stuff but menstruating? Really?" Eponine was obviously annoyed. Combeferre placed his hand kindly on Azelma's boney little wrist. 

"Don't worry, Joly isn't usually one to intrude on personal information. He's just trying to help." Azelma eyed his hand, it was large and masculine but gentle, something she thought to be a reflection of Combeferre over-all character. She looked at him, amazed by his face. She so desperately wanted to say something in return, anything, but she couldn't find the words, mentally or physically. In replacement of a heartfelt reply, she returned his words with a breathy, half-hearted laugh. 

"Well nice talking to you guys and meeting the two newbs. I gotta run, unlike you guys I have Friday Classes I can't miss!" Bossuet excused himself, excepting their up beat quirky goodbyes. He turned the door knob and didn't look so surprised we it fell into his hand, broken. The group snickered at his bad lucky and waved him off.

"I better go too. I feel weird after asking Azelma about her 'Cycle'." He put figure quotations around where the word Cycle would land if he had captions. The group waved at him as he skipped off and out the knob-less door.

"So, Marius," Jehan started. "Where did you go to high school?" He asked just to make conversation.

"I was homeschooled." He put plainly. Jehan was taken a back as were the others. 

"Wow, so you have never been to a 'real school' before?" Eponine's mouth fell wide open and not just because Marius's beauty was driving her mad. He had delicate feature's that enticed Eponine. Ever since they were children he'd admired him, from afar mostly but they did talk and spend most of there days side by side. But his homeschooled past never came up. 

"Nope!"

While Eponine and Marius got into a steady conversation, Azelma was overwhelmed by a new sensation, she wasn't a virgin and had had boyfriends and crushes in the past, but nothing so sudden as the feelings she had for Combeferre. Was this what love was? Grantaire and Courfeyrac got invested in their own exchange which gave Azelma the ideal opportunity to socialize with Combeferre. But she wasn't sure how to approach this. Honestly Azelma had always been a bit of a slut, throwing herself at guys even though she only had sex once when she was raped. Things were starting to get awkward. Thank God Combeferre initiate something. "So, were do you go to school?" This was a touchy subject for Azelma given that because of Eponine's defiance against her parents that led to her running away, Azelma was left alone with her brothers and forced to take care of them fulltime. But she didn't want to bore him with her little sob story.

"I kinda had to dropout because I had to take care if my brothers. But now they're older and the oldest can watch them after school." she didn't want go into details.

"Tough stuff" patted her in efforts to comfort her. "So you and Montparnasse? He's a little old for you, isn't he?" He unintentionally took a stab at her.

"Um, I don't think so. I mean he's your age and that's not that much older. I'm very mature for my age." She tried to convince him.

"I'm sure you are. But that's sort of illegal." 

Dating a minor was the least of Montparnasse's problems. Azelma wanted so bad to rant about all of Montparnasse's crimes. She wanted to cry about how he's made her help. All the bodies she dumped in the river, it made her sick. Montparnasse was not a murderer but occasionally his temper got the best of him and he killed. She wanted to punch and kick about all the things that scared her about Montparnasse away. She wanted to jump into Combeferre's arm's and feel safe, a feeling she has never known. But she kept calm. "Montparnasse has other crimes to worry about." She put flatly. Combeferre made his concern obvious. But before he could speak up Eponine stepped in. 

"Combeferre, thanks for being so welcoming to my little sister!" She cooed over her sisters adorableness. "Isn't she just the cutest little thing you ever saw?" Azelma looked hopeful at Combeferre who pursed his lips and nodded.

"Beautiful." He said trying to hide his concern for Azelma. She fought to hide her blush, little did she know Combeferre was fighting the coloring of his cheeks as well for calling a stranger beautiful.

"I'm glad you think so because I want you to be her bodyguard!" Eponine proposed her idea. 

"Um you want me to guard her body?" He cleared his throat.

"Well, it sounds dirty when you say it like that! I just thought since your like, really manly and the scariest in the group, next to Enjolras... and Bahorel.....and Feuilly... and Jehan when he's shopping.....ok maybe not the scariest but please Combeferre! Protect my little baby!" She pouted her lip and hugged him from his side, nuzzling her head in the nape of his neck. Azelma almost wanted to punch her! How dare she flirt with Combeferre! Grantaire joined them at that end of the table. 

"C'mon 'ferre! Protect the little Pixie!" He begged. Courfeyrac joined them and Marius trailed behind.

"Yeah 'ferre! Do it for the Pixie!" Courfeyrac agreed with Grantaire and quiet liked the nickname Pixie for Azelma. It did suite her after all, a nearly helpless little thing that possessed a beautiful face and body. Jehan looked a bit confused.

"Do you guys both call her a pixie?" Jehan questioned, followed by nods of confirmation. "Fits." He shrugged.

"So, what will it be Combeferre? Will you keep our Pixie safe?" Eponine laughed a little at his sisters new nickname. Combeferre resigned.

"Fine, I'll take care of the Pixie." He sighed. Eponine squealed happily, squeezed Combeferre in a tight embrace. This infuriated Azelma, but like always she kept it to herself. She never could speak her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The friends initiate Marius and have a nice game of Laser tag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the weird initiation... I wanted it to be crazy.

Courfeyrac had just finished converting his bed into a loft when Grantaire came in with his arm slung around Enjolras and a bottle clutched in his free hand. Like usual, he was drunk, talking nonsense and basically harassing Enjolras. 

"So are you going to take your pants of or what?" Grantaire said in a serious tone (for being drunk at least)

"I swear Grantaire if you ask me that again, I will have to kill you!" He threw Grantaire in the doorway with rage. 

"That's okay I like it rough!" He growled causing Enjolras to dramatically slam the door. 

"Nice one, 'Taire." Courfeyrac joked. "I got your bed all set up!" He gestured to a matteress under the loft that had his purple christmas lights draped on the underside of. He address the cup holder attached to the bed post. "And look, you can put your drinks in that so they won't spill!" He looked very proud of his handy work. Grantaire wasn't impressed before he noticed the cup holder. He shoved his bottle into it and thanked Courfeyrac with a sloppy but passionate kiss. When Courfeyrac was finally able to pry Grantaire's lips away, Grantaire thanked him verbally.

"Well thanks buddy! What you say me, you and Marius break that bed in, if you know what I'm saying?" Marius was clearly confused and left his post at his bed to see what Grantaire ment. 

"What do you mean?" Marius 's curiousity got the best of him.

"I'll show ya!" Grantaire friskily throw his arms around Marius's lower back and nearly smooched him before Courfeyrac tore them apart. 

"Grantaire! Sober up we're leaving in three hours so try to sleep it off, for Marius's sake, you horny bastard!" Courfeyrac guided him to his mattress. "Sorry about that Marius."

"Why did he want to do that sorta 'stuff' with me?" Marius looked genuinelly concerned. Courfeyrac wondered how to put this.

"Marius, you are very- attractive-"

"I am?"

"Yes." He took a deep breath. "And guys like Grantaire have no self control when they are drunk, especially when it comes to- um sexy- I mean attractive people." Courfeyrac and Marius felt the color rush to their cheeks. 

"You think I'm-" He couldn't get out the word. "Sexy?"

"I never said that!" He was very defensive about this. "I'm going to go-" He couldn't think of an excuse. "Out!" He shouted in excitement that he came up with something. "Just don't let Grantaire even look at you."

Marius felt very satisfied that someone thought he, of all people was sexy.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosette sat across from her aged father at a long dining table in his impressive home. A crucifix was hung on the wall above his grey-white haired head. Nervously, she prodded at her salad. This was it, she was going to ask his premission to date.

"Papa?" She said weakly.

"Yes, my child?" He looked more interested in his meal than the impending conversation.

"I've been thinking lately...." She trailed of.

"Well you should always be thinking, my child. You have a beautiful mind." Without thanking him for his compliment she continued.

"Well, I am almost twenty, so don't think its about time...." She struggled to continue.

"Cosette, your trembling! What is worrying you so?" He almost got out of his chair to inspect her health.

"I'm fine, really. I just thought that maybe, ever once in while...."

"Cosette, please, you're starting to scare me." He was sincere about his frieght. "Tell me what you want to tell." He prompted. She continued right were she left off, taking a tremendous leap of faith.

"If I could date." She closed her eyes tight and turned away, so afraid of his reaction.

"My child, why are you so afraid to ask such things." He was kneeling beside her chair at this point.

"I thought you'd say no." 

"That was my instinct. But, I trust you, Cosette. I think it may finally be apropriate for you to date." Cosette could not hid her joy. She tackled him in a hug on the floor and kissed his cheek.

"Oh Papa! Thank you, thank you! You won't regret this! I promise you!"

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, the whole gang, including Azelma and Marius, was gathered at the Musain. Two people, who neither Azelma or Marius have seen before, were with the group. One was a muscular and angry looking thing and the other was exotically beautiful with sexy curves. The slightly scary one was debating with Feuilly and his name did come up in one of the heated moments. It was Bahorel, which sounded odd, even compared to the other names. The island beauty was laying on a table chatting up Bousette and Joly. Joly was shocked by the saucy tidbits she openly shared and that triggered a suprised "Musichetta!" gasp.

"Hello perky boobs." Grantaire greeted Azelma. She looked down at her chest. Luckily Eponine heard the rude nickname and stepped in.

"Grantaire, if you so much as think of my sisters boobs, I will nuetor you!" She threatened with her fist at the ready. Grantaire backed away with his hands raised defensively. 

Jehan approached Marius brightly. "Marius, as the new boy, we have to intiate you before we go to the lazer tag place." The others started to join Jehan. "The intition process is a very sacred tradition in this group. We've all done it, even Enjolras." Enjolras shot a glare towards Jehan. 

"Ha! that's a fun story. I'll make a note to tell you later!" Grantaire laughed like a hyena.

"So slip this sweatshirt on," He handed him a pink sweat shirt that read 'Free Feminine Products' on both sides in bold bluish-purple block letters. Marius's eyes got very wide but he agreed to put it on. Hooks lined the bottom seem of the sleeve. The friends had him hold out his arms so they could tie tampons to the hooks and stick pads around the words and on his jeans. Lastly Grantaire handed him a mask that was a pad with two eye holes. 

"Your mission, go into that girl's dorm hall and run around until they've taken all of the stuff of your sweatshirt and jeans. Got it?" Courfeyrac instructed. Marius looked like he was going to vomit.

"I can't do this!" Marius cried weakly as they marched over to the dorm. At this paricular university, each level was divide into three parts by doors that were half windows. The parts of the level they were visiting, level one, was a rare sort of level. The first section was entirely incoming Freshman, the next divison consist of only Senoirs, his set with seprated ages and grades was not uncommon but the thing that made this level special was behind the last door. The final portion of living space belonged to female staff memebers who stayed at the school overnight on occassion. These dorms were volumes more luxurious. It was more like an apartment home with its two bedrooms and its own bathroom, a standard size kitchen and living area. If poor Marius were to be spotted by a professor, the consequences could be dier. 

When they reached the door Eponine and Musichetta were the only two typically allowed past that point given the hour, (aside from Azelma who would have to face the female intitation sooner or later) So they escorted him into the hall linking arms, with him in the center. "Alright kiddo, the key is enthusasiam. Pad-Pal is legend at this place, girls go crazy for him!" Eponine promised.

"Pad-Pal?" Maius quesioned.

"That's what they call whoever wears the sweatshirt and mask and stuff. They still think its just one guy. Even though Combeferre is a tree basically and Jehan a scrawny thing." Eponine point out the fact that no one ever exchanged descriptions of the masked man.

A youthful looking ginger with a small waist and bushy hair come out of her room with a basket of shower necesities and a pristine white towel. Eponine and Musichetta duct away in the door less bathroom. When she saw Marius, she dropped all her things, put her hands to her face and screamed like she just got a private concert from her top 3 favorite boy bands all at once. Her room mate sprang from her bed to see what all the fuss was about. Her face lit up like a christmas tree.  
"Its Pad-Pal!" She squealed loud enough so everyone burst out of their rooms. 

Within mere seconds, the girls had surronded him and got so wild that one frisky brunette (cough cough Musichetta cough cough) pulled down his pants. He looked back at the boys who all but Enjolras had their eyes glued to the scened and were now pointing and laughing hysterically. Marius pulled up his pants and noted all the pads on them had been stripped away by the eager girls. His sweatshirt and tampons hadn't been touched and all the girls looked satisfied with their loot. 

Without thinking he ran to the next section. The other boys and the girls chased after him. All of them stopped at the door and anxiously watched as Marius was hardly touched in this hall. Most of his tampons remained as well as much of his sweatshirt. unknowingly, Marius rushed straight into the next hall. His friends almost broke the door down they were in such a hurry to rescue the guy. But before the could do anything Marius was face to face with a very mean, very old, very fiesty professor. Marius couldn't move for a moment. Letting out a distorted whimper he scrambled back to the door. When he realised she chased after him he pounded fiercley on the door. His new friends opened it and followed him as he embarked, the leader of an epic chase. While he ran girls snagged his remaining products and the angry Professor yelled threats at him. 

Marius made his way to the main office of the building, he turned around to see if she was still hot on his tail. For an older gal she moved rather quickly and was rather near him. In panic Marius did the only logical thing, he jumped on a cart of stuff some girl was pushing, raised his fist in the air and shouted

"Vivela Pad-pal!" The girl was so happy to be his get away vehical she fainted. Marius looked down and jumped of bounding for the Mens room.His friends cheered for him as disappeared behind the door.

Inside Marius climbed on a toliet and popped open window. He was slender enough to squeeze his way out of it. To elminate evidene, he shut the window behind him. He ripped off his sweatshirt and mask. Casually, he joined a group of students he didn't know to look like he was just passing through. He put away his things in his backpack that he had taken back from Courfeyrac some time on his adventure. The group stared at the panting stranger for a second and then dismissed it.

Shortly, Marius was joined by his friends. Congradulations and words of praise were thrown around in the hundreds. None of them has ever seen an intitiation quite like that. They knew that teachers, more specifally, female professors were offended by Pad-Pal and seek his expolsion, but never has someone been found and chased! When the excitment trailed off from Marius and the guys started to talk about it not needing Marius's presence, Eponine come to his side.

"Nice one, Pontmercy, you really got yourself into the group. That's enough to keep you in permantly!" Eponine enthused. "Now I just need to get my sister where you are, one of the guys." She said on a more worried note. "You really stepped up, I didn't know you were so brave." Her flirting was apparent. 

"Alright, now we have your childish intitation over with, let's get your childish lazer tag done with too." Enjolras mocked them. 

"Ah c'mon Enj, you know you like lazer tag!" Grantaire acused. Enjolras swatted the back of his curly mess of a head in rebuttle.  
"Let's see, Combeferre, Joly, do you mind if we all ride in your cars? Mine being the third?" Enjolras, he could be doing anything, even just planning car arrangements and drive Grantaire mad with fascination. 

"That's fine." Joly chimed in. Combeferre nodded in agreement.

"Then it's settled, Musichetta, Bossuet and Bahrol in Joly's car, Eponine, Azelma,-" Grantaire gave him a disaproving look. "I mean 'The Pixie' and Jehan in Combeferre's car and Grantaire, Courfeyrac and Marius with me." Grantaire gave Enjolras another look. "What is it this time?"

"I gave Marius a nickname too." Grantaire looked please with himself "The Puppy!" Marius looked offended. "Oh don't looked so shocked, I just thought since your so innocent and dependent and cute, you're like a puppy." Grantaire explained.

"Fine 'The Puppy' is with me." He corrected himself. "Can we just leave now?" Meekly Jehan rose his hand.

"Is Feuilly meeting us there?" He asked. 

"He texted me and said he wouldn't miss it, so I think that's the plan. I'll make sure for you Jehan." Musichetta said with a sweet demeaner that she saved souly for Jehan.

"Thanks 'Chettie!" Jehan skipped off queing everyone to go their seperate ways. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Combeferre's car Azelma was struggling to keep calm, Eponine was flirting, intentionally or not and Combeferre was accepting it. 

"So what does being the Pixie's body gaurd entail?" Combeferre said still recovering from Eponine's last flirtatious joke. 

"You know, just keep an eye on her and make sure Montparnasse doesn't go near her. And you'll have to babysit her for me when I'm at work. I can't risk her being alone." Eponine answered. If Eponine had asked anyone else to babysit her, Azelma would have told them she could manage on her own just fine but this was Combeferre, any opprotunity to spend a little quality time with him wasn't something she'd pass up. 

"When are you working next?" Azelma asked

"2pm to 11pm tomorrow." Eponine turned to Combeferre "Can she stay at your apartment?" Combeferre said she could which made Azelma ecstatic. "Great! I'll drop her off on my way to work. Don't think you have to stay home with her you can leave as long as she's safe in your apartment or with you." Azelma thought about how she would go around the town holding Combeferre's hand, going into little shops to try on funny hats and sunglasses, he would kiss her everytime he had the opprotunity (given the height difference, the moments were rare), they would tease each other and finally fall asleep in his protective forgeinly inviting embrace.

Jehan was growing increasingly pale which worried Eponine. "Jehan, your shaking, are you cold?" She reached for the dial but Jehan insisted his was warm enough.

"Really Eponine, I'm fine." He said quietly. Azelma looked at him and he nervously twiddeled his thumbs against his lap. Disapointed that Eponine had interupted her fanstasy on Jehan's account, she turned to the window so she could dream of her life with Combeferre. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over in Joly's car, it was a different mood entirely. With music blarting, Joly was happily gabbing away with Musichetta in the front two seats and Bossuet was enthusing about lazer tag while Bahrol failed to fake interest. Musichetta glance at her phone letting out an excentric giggle.

"Oh God!" She snorted.

"What?" Joly unintentionally swerved the car when reaching out to snatch Musichetta's cell. She pulled it away. "Who are you texting? Why won't you show me?" He complained.

"Jehan. And he just told me something I don't think he wants anybody to know about!" She laughed. 

"Why did he tell you?" Bossuet leaned forward trying to sneak a peek. "You two never talk and he really doesn't like you that much!" 

"I was telling him that Feuilly was going to meet us there and then he told me about his little delema." Now they were interested. They, not including Bahorel tried their best to weasel out some information for nearly the remaineder of the ride.

"God damn, Musichetta!" Bahorel burst in "Just tell them, who gives a shit!?!" Musichetta caved.

"Fine!" She swallowed hard. "Azelma gave Jehan a boner!" The car erupted with hallows of laughter. They imagined Jehan dealing with this situation. Jehan had always been gay and unattracted to any woman but now some little highschooler was giving him a boner! Bahorel was trying to keep his express still solid but he couldn't keep some chuckles in. The rest of the way, they joked about Jehan.

And a third mood was displayed in Enjolras's car. Grantaire was fighting with Enjolras cutely. "You know you don't always have to be right!" He teased reaching over to ruffle his golden curls. Enjolras swatted his hand fiercly away.

"Don't you touch me!" He scolded him like an ill-behaved child. He was fuming! Grantaire was having so much fun! "I swear Grantaire, you are my least favorite person on this earth." 

"You know you love me!" He joked blowing him a kiss. Enjolras dodged the floating kiss. 

"No i don't love you. You agrivate me. We are complete opposites and you find it fun to make me mad!" He said knowing that Grantaire wouldn't care.

"Because your so hot when you're mad!" He winked. Enjolras kept his expression stone.

"You filthy drunk." He muttered pushing him away. Courfeyrac laughed, it was hilarious that Enjolras didn't even know that Grantaire was flirting and Enjolras was unknowingly sending him the impression that he was flirting back with his insults and swatting. Marius looked a little uncomfortable. 

"Does Grantaire always flirt with him?" Marius asked courfeyrac just loud enough to shock Enjolras and embrass Grantaire.

"I am not flirting!" Grantaire said defensively. Enjolras ignored the acusation and the rest of the car ride was silent with embarsement on Marius's and Grantaires part, Enjolras seriousness and Courfeyrac holding in laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette is nothing but nice, Eponine, Grantaire and Jehan are heartbroken, but Azelma thinks there may be a chance for her and Combeferre after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut! Smut! Smut! I'm sorry! It's not very detailed or long so you should be fine. It's the very last section so it's easy to skip. Not even important smut as it's just friendly.

Grantaire was still reveling in the fact that he won 2 of the 3 laser tag games that night when he reached the car. He boasted about his amazing feat. Eponine didn't let him forget she had beaten him in the final game though. 

"I'll get you next time, you filthy drunk!" She hollered as they both ducked into their separate cars. Azelma followed Combeferre closely out of the building.

"I think I'm going to have fun being your body guard!" He exclaimed. They had a lot of fun playing laser tag together and one point he actually touched her hand! It was truly magical. She couldn't find any words besides I love you, so she just didn't respond.

Everyone piled into the cars happily soaking in the newly created memories. The trips back were uneventful but full of warmth and camaraderie. Everyone had a good night. 

Marius and his two roommates laughed upon entering the dorm. Grantaire was balancing with the help of Marius and Courfeyrac's friendly shoulders. 

"I love you guys!" He said drunk and jubilant. For the second time he attempted to smooch Marius and again Courfeyrac intercepted. "Marius, you sexy! Mmh mmh!" He thrusted against him. Courfeyrac took the inappropriate drunk and tossed him on his air mattress.

"Go to bed you disgusting drunk!" He scowled. Grantaire quirked a playful eyebrow.

"Can I get a kiss first?" He batted his eyes flirtatiously. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes and gave him a quick peck against his forehead. "On the lips!" He corrected. Courfeyrac grumbled and as un-passionately as possible gave him a short smooch. "Courfeyrac! C'mon man! Give me a big sloppy kiss! A make out kiss with startling and stuff!" He demanded. Courfeyrac looked appalled. But he gave in. He laid on top of him and passionately kissed him wringing his fingers through his untamed black mop of hair, his tongue tangle with another that tasted of brandy, his legs startling over him and thrusting lightly. 

Marius was in shock. He let out a small squawk and literally fainted. Courfeyrac bounded of the bed and tried to wake the very pale boy lying flat on his bed. When Marius was shook out of his black-out, he screamed.

"Get off me!" Marius pushed him away.

"Whoa! Calm thoughts! I was just trying to wake you up! You fainted!" He promised. Marius looked relieved but much in shock. "Sorry about that, I just wanted to make him shut up. A little scary, I know." He shamefully admitted. Gently, he patted his back and hurried off to bed.

\-----------------------------------------------

Cosette was curled up into a little ball under her pink and yellow covers. She was fast asleep by the time her roommate and guest nosily arrived. All the racket woke Cosette.

"Who's your friend?" Cosette pulled of her sleeping mask. 

"It's my sister, Azelma. You don't recognize her?" As soon as Cosette heard it was Azelma, her eyes light up and she scampered out of her bed to greet her. 

As she wrapped her arms tightly arms around Azelma's frail body, she cooed to Azelma about missing her so much. "'Zellie!" She squealed. "Oh my 'Zelma! You're so beautiful! It's been years! How have you been!?" She was still gripping onto her. 

"I'm great. I've missed you a lot too."   
Cosette let Azelma go and just adored her for a moment. "My beautiful little 'Zelma! You look so grown up! So tell me," She pulled her onto her bed to sit with her. "What brings you here?" She said as brightly as a professional interviewer. Azelma looked to Eponine to explain. After a nod Eponine proceeded to tell Cosette the trouble with Montparnasse and revealed her early pregnancy. Cosette was stunned but unbelievably sympathetic.

Before they went to sleep Cosette consoled Azelma and Eponine laid out a sleeping bag for herself to let her sister get a bed for the night. Soon Azelma was snuggled up in her bed dreaming of her day with Combeferre. 

\---------------------------------------

Jehan could have been having a better night. But there was someone who could make Jehan feel better, his old grade school friend Cosette. It was late, but she would understand. He wrapped his fingers around his phone and speedily pressed the sequence of numbers.

"Jehan? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" She said in a tone that expressed her being tired or freshly waken by his call. 

Jehan knew that she was right "Well probably, but I really need you right now." Cosette, being supportive and kind, was eager to rush over to Jehan's cozy place and hold him in a friendly embrace. Even when Jehan protested and insisted talking over the phone would do just fine; she was un-swayed from her original position.   
"Don't you fret, I'll be right over!" It didn't take long to sneak away and pick up some lattes to bring to Jehan's. When Cosette arrived, Jehan was patiently waiting by the door still wearing his day-clothes. 

"Cosette! Thank God I have a friend like you!" He hugged her tightly, so giddy he spun her. 

"Alright down to business," she handed him a latte as she started toward the couch. "What is it that is bothering so much?" His eyes glazed over, he joined Cosette on the couch.

"I'm having 'boy' problems." He trailed off. Cosette looked confused but still fully sympathetic.

"Like problems with boys? Because I'm great at relationship advice." She tried not to be awkward. Jehan was terrible about talking about these sorts of things, he wished it was simple as relationship advice, but he was questioning his sexuality, again. 

"No, it's like when you're having, you know 'Feminine Issues'" He twisted his head away from his friend. Like Marius, talking about periods makes him very uncomfortable. Cosette knew exactly what Jehan was talking about and although she too felt awkward discussing reproductive health with Jehan, she tried to maintain a professional demeanor.

"Oh, Jehan, I'm not sure I'm the right person to talk about this with." Jehan shook his head looking at his knees.

"No, you’re the only one I can talk about this with." He admitted "Don't worry it shouldn't be too hard." As soon as he said the word hard, he buried his face in his hands. It reminded him of being 'hard'. Picking up on his hint, Cosette scooted next to him. She wrapped her skinny arm around the poor, shaking, little Jehan.

"Don't worry; I think I know what you're talking about." Cosette comforted Jehan, who was sobbing.

"I mean, that never happens to me, ever!" He squeaked coming up from his hands. "I mean when I was younger, and they just sort of happened, not because I was all turned on and stuff...." He trailed off. Cosette kissed his cheek lightly. 

"Jehan, it's a part of nature. Besides, you are gay; don't you think its appropriate that guys turn you on?" 

Jehan sniffled quietly, "She wasn't a guy..." Cosette tried to hide her shock. "I was turned on by a girl!" He buried his face in the nape of her neck. Like a mother would a child, Cosette soothed him with soft hushing and patting his back gently

"Jehan, it's ok."

"No its not! I thought I liked guys mostly because I didn't like any girls. Now she comes along and- and I just never felt that way about anyone, girl or guy!" He vented bawling. Cosette didn't expect him to react like this. She didn't know that Jehan thought he was gay because he didn't like girls, she thought he just liked boys, which may not be the case.

"Maybe you're not gay."

"I'm not straight and I am not bi." He confirmed.

"Maybe you’re not any sexuality. Maybe you’re just a whole hearted romantic who only falls for their soul mate. And that's why you just assumed you were gay, but really you just didn't have feelings for anyone besides this mystery girl!" She swooned like it was some sappy romance novel, beautifully orchestrated by Nichols Sparks. Jehan's head perked up.

"Well when you put it at that way it sounds pretty nice." He whipped away his tears. Cosette smiled, pleased with her counseling. "But Cosette, can you stay here tonight, you know for a sleep over?" Cosette nodded and they fell asleep cuddling on the couch

\-----------------------------

 

Joly stirred his metallic spoon around in his bowl, lazily staring across the table at Bossuet, who shoveled large spoonfuls of frosted flakes in his mouth. Like usual, he ate to fast and choked for a split second. He sputtered out cereal into his bowl.

"Bossuet, do you think they know?" He sighed. Bossuet shrugged. "Do you think they'd be mad if we told them?" Bossuet shrugged not listening entirely. "I mean after all this time.... and secretly living together..... and almost getting married in Vegas? Wouldn't that make you mad if two of your friends were together for three years and didn't bother to mention it?" Bossuet was still not paying attention, he started towards the dishwasher. "Bossuet, can you just listen to me? Should we tell the guys or not?" Joly was obviously annoyed by Bossuet's lack of contribution to the conversation. He snapped to attention

"What?" He said dreamily.

"Oh my god! I shouldn't have repeat myself! I was saying that it might be a good idea if you grew a pair and let me tell everyone we're together!" Joly was red with anger. Bossuet crouched down next to his boyfriend's chair and planted a soft kiss on his heated cheek.

"Joly, settle down! I'm sorry, I have just been really distracted lately. I have always wanted to tell our friends. Joly, I love you and I want everyone to know." He leaned in for a quick smooch. "I think it’s perfect timing, really, we'll tell them tomorrow at Musichetta's party."

"I love you, Bossuet. I can't wait for the world to know!"

\--------------------------------

Combeferre was preparing his house for his guest. The night before Enjolras crashed on his couch because his house was getting new flooring. While Combeferre dusted his prized book shelf, there was a pounding on the door. Combeferre was sure it was Azelma, so seeing Grantaire before him, at his door step, was a surprise.

"Is Enjolras here?" He plowed into the apartment, obviously drunk.

"He's in the shower." 

"Perfect!" He grumbled waddling towards the bathroom. Combeferre heard the bathroom door open and Enjolras scolding the drunken Grantaire.

"Grantaire! Get out of here, you filthy drunk!" Grantaire moaned in disagreement while he striped. "Get your clothes on, you oath!" He pushed him out and he fell flat on his bottom, his tighty-whities still on but his faded jeans around his ankles. Enjolras violently threw Grantaire's shirt at him, swearing. Pulling his pants up and re-looping his leather belt, he stumbled out the still open door. On his way out, he pushed the next guest aside murmuring nonsense. Azelma smoothly recovered her balance. Combeferre couldn't help staring approvingly at her in a light-weight, floral sun dress that ended mid-thigh. He shook away his stupid grin; he didn't want to give her the wrong idea.

"Hello, nice to see you again." He stayed overly profession through his greeting. 

"You too." She strolled into the house. "Wow, this so much nicer than 'Ponine's dorm!" That gave him a little chuckle. Enjolras walked out with a bright white towel around his waist and a second covering his dripping curls.

"Combeferre, do you- Azelma!" He was a little embarrassed about not wearing clothes. "I mean," His voice returned to its usual strong, authoritative sound. "Azelma, it's a pleasure seeing you again. I'm just gonna..." He snuck back in the bathroom.

"So you have a friend over?" Azelma had trouble hiding her disappointment. Combeferre rubbed his arm awkwardly.

"Yeah." He looked away. "But don't you worry; he's really fun to hang out with, so we'll have a good day." He assured her. Enjolras interrupted the silence, now fully clothed.

"Combeferre, do you think it's ok to press charges against Grantaire?" He wondered aloud. Combeferre frowned; Enjolras asked that question all too often.

"Just because he harasses you a little when he's drunk? He's your friend, Enjolras!" Combeferre exclaimed. Enjolras looked appalled but had no rebuttal. Combeferre plopped down on the couch slowly being joined by his two guests. While Enjolras stuck his nose into a book, Combeferre smiled at Azelma, making her blush. 

"So Azelma, do you think you'll be staying with your sister for long?" He tried to remain friendly and kept the conversation light.

"Probably, but if someone rats us out at the school, I'll be kicked out for sure. And 'Ponine could get in trouble." 

"Where would you go if you got caught?" He was genuinely interested.

"Not sure. Probably just one of 'Ponine's friend's houses. But I don't know who'd want to deal with me." She said somberly.

"Well, I am your bodyguard, and I've got a spare bedroom, so if you get kicked out, you can crash here." He promised spontaneously. Azelma's eyes lit up. She may very well move in with Combeferre, the love of her life. Enjolras looked perplexed. 

"Combeferre, don't you find it inappropriate that a sexually-active man houses a young teenager? I'm not convinced you can control your urges." Enjolras was clearly oblivious to the little strength of urges. Combeferre, who was very much in control of his urges, had only had sex twice and could easily refrain from coming on to Azelma but he tried not to take offense.

"I may not have sworn celibacy like you, but I'm sure I can control myself." He chuckled uneasily. 

"Still, although I am categorized as anti-sexual, I can see why a heterosexual male, like yourself would find her aesthetically pleasing. But if you think you can handle it...." He trailed off. Azelma was so red by now that she tried her best to casually cover her face.

"Let's change the subject!" She interjected boldly. Both of the boys looked to her to start the new conversation. Unfortunately, the poor high-schooler was drawing a blank. How could she flirt with Combeferre with Enjolras sitting on the same couch? "Combeferre, what are you studying?" Combeferre was thankful for the subject change.

"Well I am majoring in philosophical studies minoring in both politic sciences and education." His lips curled into a smile. Combeferre couldn't help notice that Azelma was chewing slightly on her glossy bottom lip. She was batting her eyelashes discretely while she thrusted her lack of chest toward him subtly. For a moment he stared at her chest longingly and again shook dirty thoughts out of his head.

"Well you must be busy!" She chirped brightly. "So, Enjolras, um are staying the whole day?" She questioned shyly. Quickly he shook his head, not a curl falling out of place.

"I was just leaving actually, seeing as you have everything under control here." He dutifully stood up. "I have a seminar to attend." When the door shut behind him, Azelma eagerly turned to him.

"Well I was thinking maybe, we could make the best of today, since you probably rather not be here, so do you want to go to the mall? You’re a teenager, you like the mall, right?" Azelma gave her best sassy 'I'm way better than this' face.

"You really think I'm that stereotypical?"

"Sorry!" He said sincerely. "I just thought...."

"No really, the mall's great, it's just, Eponine said I should stay away from my usual hang outs for a while. And I used to go to the mall when I had nowhere else to go. Y'know to sleep and get somewhere warm." Azelma gravely reminisced. Combeferre placed a gently hand on Azelma's shoulder. Eyes fluttering shut, Azelma struggled not to shudder. She had never felt this way before, so fascinated by another human being, so amazed by a single touch, and filled with the sense of belonging.

"Azelma, I never want you to have to sleep in the mall again, if you ever need me, there's a spare key in the plant by the door." He looked at her with sympathy welling in his eyes. Azelma smiled. "Well if we can't go there, how about we go to the park and play some basketball?" 

Immediately Azelma snorted, "You think that's fair?"

Combeferre took notice to their height difference, "I'll go easy on you!" He chuckled.

"You'll play on your knees!" Azelma playfully pushed him.

"And I'll still beat you!" He teased pushing her back with a noticeable tenderness. Azelma faked offense.

"You're on!" She hurried off the couch and headed to the car. Combeferre chased her laughing; he grabbed a basketball, hurrying out the door.  
\---------------------------------

During Eponine's dinner break at work, she usual would pick some up for a heated make out session or a quickie and then scarf down a hot pocket or something fast, but today she decided to reconnect with her childhood friend and the boy she had been lusting over for all these years, Marius. Before leaving the Musain, her place of business, she shot a text to Marius asking if he would meet her for dinner at the cafeteria at school. Marius was happy enough to meet her there and promised he'd be done there in ten minutes.

Eponine was so thrilled that she would be spending her break with Marius! She sprinted towards the cafeteria not wanting to miss a moment of soaking in his brilliance. When she arrived Marius was nowhere in sight so she grabbed them a spot in line. 

With her blue plastic tray empty and pressed up against her she swooned over her fantasy dinner with Marius, he would walk in and see her, and even though she wasn’t wearing anything flashy or nice and only a trace of makeup, he would stop in his tracks and be mesmerized by her simple perfection. Trembling, he'd approach her and with his beautiful eyes wide in amazement he'd take a leap of faith and kiss her in a loving embrace. For the remained of lunch they would gaze into each others eyes saying how they longed for each other’s love since they were children. 

But that was only a fantasy. Eponine saw him walk past, headed for the end of the line.

"Marius!" Eponine joined him. 

"Hello, Eponine!" He smile in a friendly nature. Eponine melted, overwhelmed by Marius's refined handsomeness. "Thanks for invited me to dinner, by the way." Eponine blushed in response. "Eponine, can I tell you something?" Was this it, was he going to confess his love for her? Was he going to take her hands and say that he never wants to let them go? Would he tell her that her love will finally be returned?

"Of course." She hid her eagerness and listened intently.

"I've never told you this before but," Here it comes! "Ever since we were little," This was it, he was going to admit his love! "You have been my only friend, and I'm just so glad that we're going to be best friends again!" He wrapped her in a friendly hug. Even though he didn't say what she wanted to hear she reveled in the fact that she was in Marius's arms.

Marius, still holding her, looked over her shoulder at the door. Just at that moment the most immaculately beautiful human being walked through the door. He shoved Eponine aside, watching her glide across the room almost glowing. No one in the room compared to her, not in the world even. She was a vision, an angel. Marius felt his soul on fire! He couldn't catch his breath, was this perfect being even real? Her delicate features and silky blonde hair suggested otherwise. When her bright white teeth shone through her curving shimmering red lips in an intoxicating grin, his cheeks blushed uncontrollably, he smiled back. 

Eponine saw how he looked at her, how he disposed of her as soon as the brand new light of his world stepped in the room and his life. She was instantly overcome with emotions, she was heartbroken and felt pathetic. 

"Eponine, who was that girl?"

"Her?" She tried not to break down. He nodded. "She's my roommate, Cosette." Marius's eyes lit up.

"Could you please bring me to her? Tonight, after you shift?" He asked.

"That depends," She tried to be flirty "What will you give me?"

"Anything!" He said breathily. He rummaged through his wallet.

"No, I don't want your money." She finished swiping her card to pay for her food and then walked away. Marius threw his cash at the lady at the stand, chasing after Eponine. 

"Eponine, please, do this for me, your best friend! Please?" Tears were welling in both their eyes. Eponine looked down at the floor nodding. When she looked up Marius had set down his tray and then took her tray and put on the table so he could hug her, tightly. "Thank you so much. I love you, 'Ponine." 

 

\---------------------------------  
Back at Courfeyrac's dorm, in the public bathroom, he stood beside Grantaire, for moral support as he puked into the toilet.

"It's hopeless Courf, Enjolras doesn't love me and he never will!" The tears mingled with the vomit coating his face. 

"You don't know that!" Courfeyrac argued wiping Grantaire's face. 

"Yes I do!" He barked.

"Look Grantaire, Enjolras just doesn't see you in that light, and I wouldn't be offended by that, he hasn't seen anyone in that light."

"I don't care, all I care about is being his, I'd follow him to the end of the earth, he's flawless, he's a believer, he's passionate, and he’s everything I'm not. He's my opposite. He's the sun and I'm the moon, he's fire and I'm ice, he's all that's good in this world and I'm a waste of human being! God, why did you curse me to loving him? Someone who doesn't want anything to do with me, someone unattainable? Why can't I just end it all? He's the only thing I'm living for Courf! He's the only thing I'm living for!" Grantaire wailed. Tears were escaping Courfeyrac's eyes.

"I hate seeing you like this." Courfeyrac sniffled admitting his displeasure.

"I hate that you have to." Grantaire responded still kneeling over the toilet. Courfeyrac wrapped his arms around him from behind him.

"I'm going to make you see how wonderful you are. I'm going to make you feel better." He promised. He softly kissed his cheek and trailed down his neck with adoring kisses. 

"Courf, you don't have to do this."

"I want to." He stood Grantaire upright. "I'm your best friend and I love you, it's my privilege to make you feel better. And I know just the way to make you happy." Seductively, Courfeyrac led his mess of a friend to their dorm. When the door was securely closed and locked, Courfeyrac removed his shirt and Grantaire's. Driven by passion, Courfeyrac sat Grantaire on the bed offering kisses as he did so. "You stay right there, get yourself good and naked, and I'll be back with something you'll like." Courfeyrac bounded into the deep closet and shut the door as he dug around in his collection of lingerie, lubes and sex toys. Grabbing velvety handcuffs, he pulled his pants off with his boxers. Before he left the closet, he selected a flavored lube. "I'm back!" He pulled the door open. 

 

Grantaire's jaw dropped open. "God, every time I see you naked...... mmph!" He made a satisfied sound. Courfeyrac smirked. He straddled him humping slightly.

"You’re not too shabby yourself!" He complimented after a kiss. Soon he was being touched and stroked as he slung the hand cuffs around the bed frame. Grantaire willingly cuffed himself to make sure Courfeyrac wouldn't see the ruby red incisions that marked his wrists. Both of them very much erect, they rutted against each other. "So," He gasped into Grantaire's reddish ears "How do you want to do this?" Grantaire place Courfeyrac's hands around his cock. 

"I'm in the handcuffs. You sort of have to top." He wriggled his hips. Courfeyrac smiled, excited for the festivities to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave you're kudos after the beep!
> 
> BEEP!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azelma and Combeferre have a moment, Grantaire is comforted while Marius is frightened, Enjolras has a bad temper, Jehan has a plan and Cosette has a little scare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me just tell you about my version of Combeferre. He is obviously super brainy but I think he's extremely athletic. Of course his real passions are not sports, he's all political and philosophical.

Azelma and Combeferre burst back in the house laughing and teasing each other. Instinctively they plopped onto the couch joking about crappy shots they took on the court and when Combeferre accidently touched Azelma's boob.

"You are the worst basketball player ever!" Azelma teased playfully sticking her tongue out.

"Am not! I was the star player on the varsity team at my high school!" He pushed her.

"Must've been a small school!" She shoved him back.

"Not uh! I was offered a full ride for my mad skillage!" He pushed her with a little more force than last time, but still with an air of delicacy. 

"Mad skillage? Really? What are you? 16?" She laughed, forcing him downward.

"No, but you are!" They both went for the push their hands pressing against each other, matching force. Azelma let go, Combeferre fell over Azelma his hands landing on either side of Azelma's slim frame. Two sets of youthful lips a breath away from each other. The situation made Azelma's eyes wide with anticipation.

"Do it." She willed him, still over her. 

"What?" His voice was in a whisper.

"Kiss me." Combeferre was very hesitant, but he leaned in and their lips were as close as they could be without touching. Just before they two lips met, the door swung open loudly.

"I'm in love!" Jehan sang. Combeferre popped up from behind the couch's leathery back rest. Like usual, Jehan was sporting something feminine, a pale yellow sweater with remarkably floral skinny jeans. He twirled around the room happily. "Oh Combeferre, she's the most amazing girl, and I love her! I love her, she's a girl and her name is-" Azelma popped up into view. "Azelma!" He shouted in horror. "It's not you, I just was surprised to see you here." he waved his hands in spastic defense. "Do you mind if I talk to Combeferre alone?" He asked meekly. Azelma smiled and agreed to grant them some privacy. Besides, if she left them alone she'd be spending time in Combeferre's bedroom, a place she would love to spend as much time in as possible in.

While Azelma was away, Jehan confessed his love for her, looking for advice on his approach. When Jehan first came out of the closet he was very select about whom he told, in fact most of his friends hadn't been formally told, but they all knew. Combeferre, Enjolras and Joly were the only ones let into his private world. Combeferre had a few suggestions.  
"Definitely be a lot less fruity." Jehan looked offended.

"I am not fruity! I'm not even gay, plus my parents didn't even know I was gay! I can't be that fruity!" He squealed. Trying to get Jehan to see how fruity he was, Combeferre gestured to his floral pants. Of course Jehan took the gesture differently and covered his crotch quickly. "Is it happening again? God this is so embarrassing!" 

"No your pants!" Jehan took his hands off his crotch in relief. "They're skin tight and they have flowers!" Just then Azelma came out into the living room.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," She started making Jehan cover his crotch once again. "But my sister's here." As if on cue, Eponine knock on the door while she opened.

"Hi guys!" She thanked Combeferre with a hug. "Thank you so much for watching my pixie! Love ya! Hey Jehan!" Eponine held her arms out ready to accept a hug, but instead he just rose on hand in a quick wave, puzzling Eponine. "Well see you guys, thanks!" She took her sister lovingly into the car.

 

\-----------------------

 

Grantaire woke up in Courfeyrac's wonderful arms, feeling so loved.

"Morning, 'Taire." Courfeyrac leaned in for a quick peck on Grantaire's forehead. "Last night was amazing." his wandering hands crawled up Grantaire's legs towards his crotch. How Grantaire loved this sensation, he shuddered, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head. Now he wanted him.   
"Blow me!" He commanded in a hushed voice. This task made Courfeyrac very happy. Slowly, tauntingly, he sunk down under the blankets. Eagerness got the best of him and he pulled the blankets off to watch Courfeyrac. Grantaire was giddy with anticipation. When Courfeyrac's lips curled around him, he melted so in trance. 

Out of nowhere the two heard a whimper. At first, Courfeyrac thought was Grantaire's response to his blowing, but in further investigation, the two found it was Marius. Marius had come home late that night after meeting Cosette, which by the way was the most delightful experience of his short existence, when Courfeyrac and Grantaire were asleep. Seeing this was too much for poor Marius and he fainted. Without the decency to dress themselves, Courfeyrac and Grantaire rushed to his aid.

"Marius, wake up, please, we're sorry." Courfeyrac shook him. "Please, don't freak out!" He wailed. Marius woke up huffing and puffing, when he saw the boys naked, his eyes went wide and he nearly fainted again. "No , no don't do that!" They covered up.

"Marius, we're so sorry. We totally forgot you lived here." Grantaire assured. "Not that you’re not a memorable person or anything." He recovered. Nearly vomiting, Marius calmed himself.

"It's ok." He looked away. And that was it.

\-----------------------------

The Musain was nearly empty. At the friends usual table, Grantaire sat alone, downing a bottle of strong alcohol, Courfeyrac's own brand of therapy didn't work long, and he was back enjoying an early afternoon of being drunk and solitude. He could have sworn he was dreaming when the most flawless man stomped into the door. Enjolras. He was angry, again. Most people would describe him as charming, passionate, strong but a little hot headed and capable of terrible things. So when occasionally, he'd lose his temper, Grantaire wasn't surprised, but this was becoming routine and worrying the cynic.

"Great, you. Just the person I loathe the most." Enjolras took no account for Grantaire's fragile feelings, plopping down at the table a few seats away from Grantaire. "Where are the others? Why aren't they here?" He barked at him.

"You know they have lives away from the Musain, right?" Enjolras nodded curtly. "Ok but seriously Enjolras, what's wrong?" Grantaire set the bottle on the table.

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong aside from the fact that I have only you for company."

"C'mon, you're mean but never cruel, something’s up." 

"Fine, you really want to know? People are making game of my celibacy." Enjolras was always proud of his celibacy and devotion to social activism, but he seemed hurt that people would tease him for being a virgin on purpose. 

"I'm really sorry." Grantaire sympathized.

"Oh you're really sorry? You're just a little slut who can't possibly understand what it's like to be told that you’re just a Statue! Someone who cannot love! Dickless wonder!" He had tears subtly gathering in his blue eyes. Grantaire looked at him with the most loving expression.

"When I call you a statue, really it's anything but an insult." He tried to scoot closer to him and comfort him but Enjolras swatted him away.

"It still hurts." He scowled trying to remain strong. "I just wish I could show them even though I'm not sexual, I still can be like a normal person and go out and stuff." He said more vulnerably. 

"Well why don't you date someone?" 

"I don't like any girls right now, not sure if I ever will." 

"Who says it has to be a girl? Maybe you're gay." He suggested. Surprisingly Enjolras wasn't totally offended.

"Perhaps, thanks Grantaire, I think I'll go home and soak in all this." He gave him a friendly smile and strolled out the door. Grantaire watched Enjolras’s perfect ass swagger away. How he loved him, and now he had halfway convinced Enjolras he was gay. This day was shaping up to be better than he thought.

\-----------------------------

 

Jehan had a plan. He was going to Combeferre's house half an hour after Azelma was supposed to arrive, he would bring her brightly blooming flowers and a nicely written love poem and ask her on a date. 

Right now, he was at home with Cosette, preparing. Standing in front of the mirror he tied on his tie. Cosette was poised on his bed swooning over the fact Jehan was going to ask out Azelma! Her Azelma! The little girl she'd grown up with! "Oh Jehan, you look great! I'm so proud of you sweetie!" She beamed. Jehan embraced his petite friend gleefully. 

"Look at us, Cosette! All grown up and falling in love, heterosexual love!" He emphasized the gender of his crush. Earlier that day he set an alarm on his phone to tell him to leave for Combeferre's. It buzzed. The two looked at each other.

"Go get her!" Cosette hugged him one final time with a soft kiss on his cheek. Jehan was so ready, and now the time was here!

When he arrived at Combeferre's door he shook out his jitters and gave himself a little pep talk. "You can do this Jehan! You can do this!" He knocked on the door jogging in place to run off his nerves.

"Coming!" Combeferre rang from inside. "Jehan!" He opened the door slightly out of breathe "What's up with the flowers?"

"Is Azelma here?" He didn't bother answering him.

"Yeah, she's upstairs" he pointed to a dark wood stair case to the side of the door. Jehan plowed past him, going as fast as he could up the stairs. 

"Azelma!" He called searching for her.

"I'm over here!" She replied not knowing she was answering to Jehan. Following her voice that always had a way of enchanting him, he found himself in the second bedroom, and she was unpacking her clothes into a cheerful little dresser turned diagonally in the corner. 

"Um hi." He sounded anything but seductive in his low opinion of himself "Why are you unpacking?"

Azelma sighed and tried to pretend she wasn't the happiest she had ever been. "I live here now, some one found out I was living in 'Ponine's dorm, thank god she didn't get expelled!" Jehan nodded unsure of what he should do next. The two honestly hadn't ever exactly talked one on one so this was definitely a long-shot. He pulled out the bouquet from behind his back and advanced towards her.

"I know we haven't known each other for long, but I'd really like to get to know you better, so I was wondering if you'd want to go out with me before Musichetta's party." he held out the flowers letting her awkwardly grab them. Inspecting the flowers, she found a rolled up piece of paper wedge between a bundle of flowers. She unrolled it and read it carefully.

"You wrote me a poem?" She sounded guilty, Jehan knew rejection would follow. He nodded sickly. "This really is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, but I just- I can't, I'm in love with someone else." She ran her fingers through his hair. "Thank you though." Jehan was not suited for rejection, he couldn't control his tears. Poor little Jehan's lip quivered and he sprinted away before Azelma could watch him sob. Nearly tripping down the stairs he raced to the door, Combeferre saw he was upset and hurried after him. 

"Jehan!" He followed him to his bike. "What's wrong?" It was tough to answer when nothing seemed right.

"What's wrong?" He repeated for dramatic emphasis. "Up until a few days ago, I was certain I was gay, but then Azelma shows up and I fall in love! But it turns out she doesn’t anything to do with me! She's my soul mate! And she loves someone else!" He cried out straining his vocal chords.

"Jehan, just because someone gives you a boner doesn't mean you're in love with them."

"It doesn't?" He sniffled wiping his nose.

"No, Jehan, no offense, but you're the gayest kid I have ever met and that's awesome and who you are, Azelma's great but she's not your soul mate, you belong with a guy." He assured him. Jehan threw himself at Combeferre giving him a tight hug. 

"Combeferre, you're the greatest!" He kissed his cheek "I'm so lucky to have you for a friend!" He chirped climbing back on his bike. "I'm gonna go home and get ready for Musichetta's party, thanks so much!" He pedaled off. Being gay made Jehan happy and Combeferre could tell as he rode away.

 

\-------------------------

Just after she left Jehan's house when she had finished consoling him, Cosette got a text from her beloved Marius.

'Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go to a sleepover party with me tonight. It's sorta my group's thing.'

Her father would never let her have a sleepover with her boyfriend, even if she claimed it was a harmless, friendly slumber party where there would be no sex, he would still be sure it was an orgy. Maybe if she made something up, it was at a girl's house so she could simply ask if she could spend the night at Musichetta's. So that's how she came to the decision to pay her father a surprise visit. 

She turned her car around in the direction of her childhood home, well the better part of her childhood. Mentally she planned her request. She would tell him about school briefly and then ask him about his engagements, when that topic ended she'd bring up her new friend Musichetta, who she hasn't actually met but she'd make her dad believe they had been great friends for a long time and that she was polite and a good role-model. She'll offer to bake him something such as muffins or cookies and when he was well invested in his treat she'd ask to sleep over at Musichetta's house, if all goes well he hopefully won't wanted any details.

She turned into the driveway of a cheerful but huge mansion adorned with perfectly neat shrubberies, details window frames and even rows of black shingles. On her way up the short winding path to the door, she passed bushes of flowers and friendly garden gnomes. Two stair-steps led her to the porch with its rocker and swing. Everything was just as lovely as usual, on the outside at least.

There was no warm greeting following her knock, no kind father behind the door. She heard the faint cry of a man in distress.

"Cosette!" It yelped. "Cosette! Come my child!" It was her father. Without hesitation, she thrashed the door open.

"Papa?" She looked around for her father. "Papa? Where are you?" Her search quickened with her heartbeat.

"On the stairs!" He hollered. "Hurry!" She did just that. She found him sprawled on the stairs in crippling pain.

"Papa!" She crouched down beside him kissing his cheek. Weakly, her father begged of her to hoist him to his wrinkled feet. When he was standing, she assisted him down the stairs. "Are you ok?"

"Now that you are here." He smiled dizzily. "Thank you so much my child." 

"Papa? Are you in pain? You need to go to the hospital!" She notice him wincing and grasping his back. "Come with me!" She herded him into her car buckling him herself. Now she wasn't sure if she even wanted to go to Musichetta's party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thanks for reading and please give me suggestions. I want to write what you want to read.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The friends have a party at Musichetta's house. Courfeyrac has own variation of the classic game, Spin-the-Bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this party!

Musichetta combed through her naturally thick, curly hair that was just frizzy enough to be very attractive. She had tied it into a low side pony that drew attention to her bulging breasts. On her eyes she neatly drew on dramatic black eyeliner cat eyes to compliment her next endeavor, a sexy smoky eye. Accenting her flawless smoky eye, she thrusted a wand of black mascara against her naturally long lashes. Juicy red lipstick covered her full lips. Musichetta was beautiful. 

Lastly she clipped on her red island flower that represented her exotic Latin heritage. Along with several Asian cultures including Indian and Japanese, she was Latino and Brazilian. Mostly Latino.

She left the bathroom taking in one last satisfied glance at herself before heading to her bedroom. Laid out on her bed was a tight, strapless dress. It was greyish with glittery gold leopard spots. In order for it to fit she had to unzip it because it was so snug. By the time she was only in her bra and panties, Joly and Bossuet barged in unexpectedly. Both of them looked mortified at walking in on Musichetta while she was changing, they muttered apologizes and began backing up out of the room. 

"Boys!" She rolled her eyes. "It's ok! Come back in here! It's not like you haven't seen me naked before!" She teased reminding them of their phase of three ways. Bashfully, they waddled into the room embarrassedly. She stepped into her dress. "Zip me up?" She backed into Bossuet letting him join the metal teeth of her dress zipper. She dusted of the bottom and turned to face them. "How do I look?" She tilted seductively side to side showing off every angle. The happy couple looked sentimentally at each other and then smiled back at her.

"Beautiful, 'Chetta!" Joly didn't hesitate hugging her, she returned the favor by leaving a trace of red lipstick on his cheek bone.

"Thanks babe! So, you two makin' it public tonight?" She referred to the relationship between the secret gay lovers. Smirking, they nodded delighted with each other. She did a little excited shimmy and pulled them both in a hug. "I love you guys! I'm so happy that you guys love each other and are brave enough to let everyone feel how I feel!" She hurried to her vanity and dusted powder against her bronze skin. "Almost forgot!" she continued brushing it on.

"When will everyone else be here?" Bossuet asked

"Any moment now!" She chimed as the door bell sounded. "Looks like we've got company." She had such grace in her step as she slinked down the steps towards the door. Behind it was little Jehan looking especially adorable with his mournful puppy eyes on. Musichetta had been told what happened with him and Azelma, apparently he feels more embarrassed than saddened. He's gay and he did something silly, jeopardizing a friendship that wasn't fully established. Musichetta was always gentle with the poet and desired to comfort and nurture him. Her instinct was to cradle him like a baby but instead she just greeted him with an urgent hug. "I'm so glad you came!" 

"I'm glad I came too." He admitted with a half-smile.

"Azelma is coming too so if you feel uncomfortable and want to leave, I totally understand." She didn't want to prod at the fresh wound but she wanted to assure him that he didn't have to stay.

"Thanks 'Chetta. But I'm sure I'll be fine." Coming up from behind him, Courfeyrac jumped on Jehan's back almost knocking him over.

"How's my favorite poet?" He greeted him a little too eccentrically. Jehan tried to shake him off, but he wasn't strong enough. Seeing that Jehan was uncomfortable he lowered off his back and gave him a consoling hug. 

"Hey buddy, how you holding up?" He was tenderly stroking his face. Jehan's feminine eyes welled up with tears and he retreated to his embrace. Something about Courfeyrac always made Jehan collapse.

"I'm so embarrassed!" He laughed at himself "But at least I know I'm gay." Courfeyrac rubbed Jehan's thin arm.

"Well I'm glad you’re coming out of the closet, again." They both giggled and proceeded into the house. But then Jehan thought: Since when did I come out?

The next guest stumbled into the door with a bottle of booze, hollering nonsense at the top of his lungs. Joly marched down the stairs angrily and told him to stop his shouting and directed him to the basement were Musichetta, Jehan and Courfeyrac were joking around. After Grantaire arrived next was Bahorel, he danced into the basement ready to party. Next arrived Eponine, toeing behind Azelma cheerfully. Combeferre and Enjolras joined them in the basement. Lastly, Feuilly showed up with 2-liters of pop and bags of chips with junk food. They spent a few hours just talking in groups and chowing down on pizza and the munchies Feuilly brought. Musichetta did a quick mental head count and furrowed her brow.

"I wonder were Cosette and Marius are?" She pondered. Everyone thought about it for a moment and in unison shrugged. "Well I guess we'll just party without them!" 

Courfeyrac, who was wildly flirty by nature, smirked. "You all know the tradition," He took Grantaire's freshly empty bottle and waved it in the air. "Anyone up for spin the bottle?" Eponine rolled her eyes.

"Courf, c'mon, my little sister’s here! We can't play your screwed up version of spin the bottle!" She put her hands on her hips. 

"She's like 16, we've played this game since before you wore a bra!" He was talking about how him, Grantaire and Eponine would play this game years ago as kids with their old school friends. Reluctantly she allowed her sister to join the circle of 12. "Alright, just a quick refresher on Spin the Bottle, Courfeyrac style. Ok so, I'll start. First you spin," He whirled the bottle around like pro. It halted at Enjolras. 

"I am not playing!" Enjolras scooted away from the circle.

"Fine, but anyway, since it was the first time I landed on him, I would 'Truth or Dare' him. After he completes his 'Truth or Dare' it is his turn to spin. If you land on someone a second time you have to kiss. The third time you land on someone, you have to make out, and in the event that you land on them four times, the pair gets seven minutes in heaven. Or in this case, that closet." He pointed to the closet. 

"We're all going to get mono!" Joly whimpered. 

"Alright, here we go!" He was so enthusiastic about spinning the bottle. Round and round it went gradually slowing to a stop at Azelma. "Pixie! Truth or Dare?" 

"Dare." She chose readily. Courfeyrac thought for a second before leaning across the circle to whisper her dare into her ear. Whatever his request was, it offended her, but she didn't slap him like an independent woman would, she just shook her head mouthing the word no.

"What did you ask her?" Eponine asked fuming. Courfeyrac leaned over and whispered the dare to her anticipating the slap. "You're disgusting!" She swatted at him. 

"What? What was it?" Bahorel was in a better mood than ordinary, which was an indication he had been drinking. When Courfeyrac leaned towards Bahorel, he shoved him away. "C'mon you little shit, just tell us all!" 

"Fine!" He stood up and his audience watched eagerly. "I dared her to put the bottle up her-" 

"Don't say it! Don't say it!" Jehan begged plugging his ears. Of course, Courfeyrac, like everyone else, always obeyed Jehan, even though no admitted it, everyone was more respectful of Jehan than anyone else. But everyone knew what he was going to say and he got plenty of crap about it. 

"Alright Pixie, your spin." Courfeyrac instructed while being smacked by Eponine. The bottle pointed to Grantaire. "I've got one for him, if you want." Azelma nodded since she didn't have an idea for a dare. Courfeyrac, again whispered the dare to Grantaire, making Grantaire's eyes wide he muttered word of protest.

"No way!" He gasped "No, he'll kill me!" He insisted. But Courfeyrac wouldn't let his second dare be a failure. He pulled him to his feet and shoved him towards Enjolras who was enjoying a thick book. To prepare, he exhaled and flopped his hands around to release some tension. When Grantaire staddled Enjolras, the reaction was so swift that if you blinked you'd miss the whole situation. Enjolras bucked Grantaire off, pinned him and hurtled his fist powerfully into the side of his face. 

"Don't touch me!" He scowled curling up with his book. Combeferre gave him his signature 'fix it' look making Enjolras sigh. "I'll get you some ice." He murmured viciously, stomping upstairs. Grantaire clutched his swelling cheek, moaning in agony. How could something so beautiful, so perfect be capable of inflicting such pain, Grantaire supposed that since he was gifted with god-like looks, he may also possess the same strength. Enjolras was capable of being a fierce friend or making your nightmares a reality, which was your choice. No matter how many times Enjolras had hurt Grantaire physically or emotionally, he couldn't stop loving him, he loved him endlessly, until he despised him, until his bones ached, until his heart turned to mush, until he would finally die, and still on after that. When Grantaire opened his eyes, Enjolras stood radiantly before him holding out a pack of ice.

"Thanks." He snatched the ice pack and balled up against the wall. Sighing once more, he sat next to Grantaire in efforts to comfort him without apologizing. 

The 'Truth or Dare' portion lasted a little longer and then Joly spun the bottle and it landed on Bahorel for the second time. Bahorel winced as he let Joly give him a kiss.

"I'm gonna get mono! And I'm gonna die!" He went Bossuet's embrace for comfort.

"That cuddling didn't look like friendship cuddling!" Musichetta prompted them to tell the group about their romance. Joly blushed nervously still holding Bossuet.

"Well, for the past three years," Joly started but was too flustered to finish.

"We've been dating." Bossuet admitted. They all gasped not sure what to say, except for Enjolras who didn't care about their not so lonely souls. 

"Big whoop! My spin!" Bahorel rubbed his hands together. The cap-side of the bottle pointed at Jehan, who responded with bright blush across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. Bahorel rolled his eyes before kissing him softy, the corners of their mouths hardly grazing the other.

"That is not a kiss!" Eponine booed.

"It's a little weird, kissing guys when you're not gay!" Bahorel explained loudly. Eponine giggled.

"Alright Jehan baby, your turn." Musichetta got the ball rolling again. When the bottle stopped at Azelma for the second time, the people who knew about Jehan's earlier rejection felt their eyes widen. Azelma took her eyes off the bottle seeing Jehan nearly crying, freaking out. 

"I can't I-I ca-" Before Jehan could finish Azelma's lips were against his kissing him with a bottled up passion meant for Combeferre. Jehan pried her off let a silvery tear escape his innocent eye. When he sat down he crossed his legs to hide the problem that presented itself in his pants. The result of Azelma's spin was Jehan again.

"Not uh! You're not making out with Jehan! Sorry" Eponine rolled the bottle into Jehan's grasp, Jehan whipped the bottle around. Courfeyrac jumped to his feet, Jehan had spun him the third time. Courfeyrac was so nervous, when he kissed his other friends he could be silly and raunchy, but Jehan was special, after all he was Jehan. Clinging to Courfeyrac they kissed hungrily. Neither holding back, still it wasn't a steamy kiss, it was romantic and sentimental, when they released, and everyone was hooting and hollering. The room was just loud enough so they couldn't hear them gasping erotically.  
\--------------------------

A few more of the group members smooched before Marius arrived without his lovely Cosette. Musichetta stood up. "Where have you been?" She put her hands on her hips. She was only teasing but Marius looked genuinely frightened. 

"Cosette's dad's in the hospital, he fell down the stairs, I went to see her for a while to make her feel better, but she wanted me to be with you guys." He explained. His friends were very sympathetic and widened the circle to create a spot for him.

The two joined the circle, it was Eponine's turn. She gripped the bottle and flicked her wrist, triggering the rotations. Azelma felt it hit her like a racing bullet piercing into her gut, the bottle pointed directly at Combeferre for the second time. They were going to kiss and Azelma couldn't protest without admitting her feelings. Eponine crawled into the center meeting Combeferre. Tears stung her eyes; the pair was on their feet. She craved digging a blade into her wrists just to transfer the pain, just to get her mind off Combeferre with her sister, just to have a chance at dying and having everything be over. The two sets of eyes were trained on each other. Bubbling up inside of her were emotions that she couldn't release no matter how much she wanted to, she felt like she was on the edge of exploding. That's when she saw it, a twinkling in Combeferre's tender eyes indicating that he was in love, in love with the wrong girl. She tore away from the scene when their lips met, fleeing up the stairs into the main level bathroom.

She locked herself in the bathroom sobbing. Azelma folded herself into the fetal position. He, the boy she was mesmerized by, the boy she would do anything to be with had feelings for her sister. Why was this happening to her? She was having a baby due to rape, she had no education and therefore no future and on top of all of that, Combeferre kissed Eponine. She balled up a towel to muffle her shriek that strained her voice.  
"I love him!" She whispered harshly through her crying. 

Mascara was dripping down her cheeks for what seemed to be hours but really could just be seconds elongated by her sorrow. A faint rattle on the door reminded her the house was full of other people. "Who is it?" She choked out. The door opened without a response, startling Azelma to her feet. Grantaire stood, bruised, inside and out. Without hesitation, he pressed his palms against her wet cheeks, pulling her into a magical kiss followed by a consoling hug. 

"I know how you feel, don't cry, please, he doesn't deserve your tears."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Azelma and Grantaire's kiss was purely platonic. It was friendly and neither of them have romantic feelings for each other.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras is sick of people making fun of him and Jehan needs to prove just how gay he is. Azelma is terribly manipulative and Combeferre does something equally terrible to stop her from making bad decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mild smut. I'm sorry.

After a short week of classes, winter break finally began. Since the party, Azelma and Grantaire had developed a close friendship, Jehan has avoided Azelma at all costs, Enjolras continues contemplating his sexuality and romances have been budding. 

On this particular evening, Azelma was at Grantaire's dorm. She was flipping through one of Grantaire's old sketch books, admiring each sample of Grantaire's amazing talents. 

"What are we going to do?" Azelma lounged feeling one of the pictures. 

"What do you mean?"

"About us loving guys who don't care." She sighed closing the book to enjoy the view of the city scape from Grantaire's primary window. Wistfully she leaned against the ledge looking at the glowing city in awe, dreaming of Combeferre throwing pebbles at the window. Grantaire lazily joined her imagining Enjolras fondly. 

"Go out and drink away our sorrows?" He almost sounded like he was kidding but really that's what he'd like to do. Azelma agreed before remembering her pregnancy. Could she tell Grantaire that she had been raped and impregnated? She favored keeping her secret quite. So they two set out for a night of forgetting and for Azelma, virgin martinis. 

\--------------

"Combeferre!" Jehan's pretty little voice rang through the house, searching for his go to friend for 'Boy Talk'. "Combeferre? I really want to talk to you!" He continued venturing through the house. Jehan hurried up the stairs, thinking he may be in his bedroom. "'Ferre! Are you in your bedroom?" He knocked repeatedly on his door. 

Combeferre woke up from his early slumber; groggily he yawned and called for Jehan. "Come in!" Jehan didn't wait a moment to push the door open. They exchanged weak smiles and hushed hellos like the duo always did. Azelma was gone with Grantaire still. Combeferre sat up in his bed and pat the foot of the mattress welcoming Jehan to take a seat for their little chat. By the time they were all settled on the bed, a second voice emerged, wandering through the house.

"Combeferre!" It demanded once. 

"I'm in my room!" He called back recognizing Enjolras's voice. They heard the unmistakable sound of Enjolras storming up the stairs, passion in every powerful stride. Without a courtesy knock he tore through the door.  
"I've had it!" He exclaimed.

"Grantaire?" Jehan guessed what was causing him to be so aggravated.

"No!" He cried defensively. "It's all those idiotic, uncultured- Children, at school!" Combeferre and Grantaire were the only ones who knew about the bullying. Jehan looked concerned but out-of-the-loop. 

"What's going on, Enjolras?" Jehan tapped an open spot next to him on the bed, prompting him to join them. 

"Lately," He began. "I've been being bullied about my anti-sexuality, but I have the solution!" He jumped off the bed to pace intensely. "What is the reason for their bullying? I'm different! Yes, different!" He rubbed his chin in deep thought. "And how am I different? I'm anti-sexual." He answered his own question again. 

"Don't change yourself for them!" Jehan interrupted. Enjolras jerked his head toward Jehan shooting him a look that said 'You idiot!' but he continued yapping even though Jehan and Combeferre began their own conversation. 

"So Jehan, what did you want to talk to me about?" He shifted into a cross legged position. Jehan looked down at his hands, fiddling with his scarf nervously. 

"It's about the whole gay thing." Combeferre nodded prompting Jehan to continue. "I feel like if I want to make it less awkward between me and Azelma, I should show her that I'm gay and asking her out was a mistake." He was getting too wordy. "And there are a few ways I could show her, really, but none our as aloof as maybe I don't know...." Combeferre was getting antsy.

"Spit it out!" 

"Fine!" He took in a heaving breathe of air preparing to say it. Enjolras's rambling monologue was intensifying.

"I need a partner!" Both Jehan and Enjolras shouted in unison. They both looked at each other, eyes locking, was it fate? 

"I don't think either of you two need my help with that. But I do think we have ourselves a match." Combeferre beamed at them. All Jehan could do was stare at Enjolras's refined beauty that mirrored Jehan's femininity. Enjolras returned his gaze as he thought about how his relationship with Jehan would turn out, he pictured the two of them having a quiet, non-sexual, hardly more than friendly partnership. Just what Enjolras wanted, like an anti-sexual beard.

"Jehan, it would be my pleasure if you'd join me for dinner tomorrow night." Enjolras said with little emotion. Jehan threw himself around him, giving him a warm hug. 

"I would love to!" He grinned. After a moment he directed his attention towards Combeferre. "Combeferre, will you double with us?" He pleaded. Even though his relationship with this mystery girl wasn't Facebook official or even public, he agreed.

\---------------------

Azelma stumbled up the stairs towards Combeferre, pretending to be drunk; she filled a large bottle with water so she could slurp some down to add to her charade. Combeferre was perfect, sleeping soundly in a heap of soft blankets and pillows, it almost guilted her into turning around and going to her own room, almost. 

She leaned against the door frame holding her bottle as sexually as she could muster. To wake him she loudly cleared her throat. When he bolted upright, Azelma gave a slightly stuck up, exasperated look.

"Will you just sleep with me already?" She waved her bottle for emphasis.

"Azelma? Are you drunk?"

"No!" She said sarcastically in a high pinchy tone. She strutted across the room "C'mon Combeferre! Sex me up!" She growled pushing her breasts together as she seized his hands and placed them on her breasts, making him message them lightly. His eyes grew wide. He couldn't have sex with Azelma, he was seeing someone else and she was only 16.

"Azelma, I-I can't." He protested as she swung her legs around him in a straddle position. For a moment he couldn't remove his hands but he struggled them free.

"Sure you can!" She pecked down the side of his face to his neck. "I know you think I'm just Eponine's poor little sister, and you could never sleep with little old me but there's no use resisting, I'm here and I want you." Combeferre shook his head.

"No! You're 16! That's illegal! I'm not having sex with you!" He put trying, and failing to be firm. Pouting, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Azelma," He warned sharply. She carefully selected a cigarette and readied her lighter. "Do not put that in your mouth!" 

"I could be putting something else in my mouth if you weren't such a prude!" She popped it in between her lips, still unlit.

"I swear, if you light that I will never talk to you again!" 

She let out a scoff "You hardly talk to me now! Not since we almost.... kissed." A smirk filled her youthful face. It faded away quickly into a look of hurt and utter despair. "I love you and you pretend you don't know it! Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" The cigarette end met with the small yellow flame flickering out of the lighter. 

"Don't do this Azelma!"

"Who's stopping me?" Combeferre was going to regret this, but he was not about to let the pixie, at 16 start smoking under his watch. All the sudden his lips crashed against hers in a moment of pure sexual tension in contrast to Combeferre's dutiful attitude. She was filled with amazement, Combeferre was kissing her, holding her against his muscular body and combing through her curly hair. Combeferre blow out the cigarette when he released.

"Me." He answered his breathing labored. Wild eyes met Combeferre's serious eyes, she started tampering with Combeferre's button up pajamas. It was insane, he was going to de-virgin-ize Azelma, little, innocent, flawless Azelma. Did he just think she was flawless? Well honestly, she really was, with beautiful blue grey eyes contrasting her shining brown hair, she looked a lot like Eponine, they were near identical. Besides the fact that she was more feminine and youthful appearing and their eyes were different colors. 

Both their shirts were wrinkled up on the floor. Combeferre was fiddling with the clasp of her bra ripping it free. She felt so wonderfully exposed gasping in awe of Combeferre's friskiness. Soon his pants were at the foot of the bed along with her own. Ever so carefully Azelma tugged off his underwear. Moaning, she took in the grand sight that was a very much naked Combeferre. When she wiggled out of her panties, she was disappointed that the feeling she had wasn't visibly returned. Combeferre tried not to look, feeling substantially disgusted with himself. 

"Screw me!" She begged. Combeferre wanted to vomit as she carried out her request trying to act like he was enjoying himself. But after a while of tortured sex, he had to stop.

"I can't do this!"

"Why?" She sat up straddling him with a heavy pout.

"Because- because" He was struggling for air at this point "Because I'm dating your sister!" He covered his face ashamed. Azelma slinked off of him towards the foot of the bed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She said quietly, trying desperately not to breakdown. Combeferre didn't know how to answer that.

"I didn't want you to hurt yourself by smoking. I mean being drunk was bad enough."

"I'm not even drunk!" She laughed at how terrible everything was turning. "I'm not drunk because guess what? I'm pregnant! Yup, I ran off to Montparnasse and he raped me! And now I'm having a baby!" She admitted. "How could I be so stupid, thinking you actually wanted to have sex with me? How could I be so vile that I would take advantage of how nice you are like that?" She was so embarrassed.

"Azelma, it's ok."

"No it's not! I'm pregnant and a high school dropout! And worst of all, you picked her!" She pulled on some clothes and rushed out the door, Combeferre chased after her, only dressing his bottom half. Without putting on shoes, Azelma was out the door. Feeling the cold snow against her bare feet slowed her immensely. She stopped at lamp post to inspect her feet, that's when Combeferre caught up and grabbed her arm to restrain her. "Get off me!" She wiped away a tear.

"Azelma, come inside!" He said firmly. 

"No, I can't be around you anymore! I clearly can't control myself!" She exclaimed. "And my sister's going to hate me!" She added her cheeks wet with streaking tears.

"No she's not!" 

"We had sex! You're her boyfriend now!" 

"You didn't know that!"

"That doesn't matter! When she finds out, she'll never talk to either of us again! I see the way you look at her, it's how I look at you. And I hate that I'm the reason that she'll never forgive you! God she's gonna hate me." Shd tried to shake free. He tightened his grip and pulled her back. 

"No she's not."

"Yeah right!" 

"She's not going to hate you because we're not going to tell her." Azelma looked appalled. How could she let him lie to her? 

"I can't let you lie to her!" 

"I'm not lying, if she specifically asks if I slept with you, I'll own up to it, otherwise, this whole thing never happened." She nodded in response letting tears flow in silence. "Now, we're going to go inside and I'm going to put you to bed with a nice cup of hot cocoa, ok?" Shaking her head rapidly, she refused.

"I can't, it's not right, I'll just crash somewhere else." She insisted breaking away from his protective grip. 

"You are staying here with me, if I let you go you could get hurt and I don't want that to happen." He snatched her wrist back

"I'll be careful." She grumbled fighting his grasp. Not wasting time with fighting, Combeferre swept her up into the strong, welcoming arms she adored and longed for. Even if she wanted nothing more but to curl up in his cradling arms, she wiggled and squirmed in an effort to escape. He carried her all the way into the house, up the stairs and to her bedroom. Azelma was forced into her bed, but of course Combeferre had a way of treating her as carefully as fragile china doll, so she didn't feel assaulted.

"Azelma," He began, tucking her in securely. "There's no use fighting, I'm bigger, we both know whose going to win." Azelma rolled her eyes, irritated. She gave in. Combeferre still didn't trust her to stay there alone, so he stationed himself in an armchair that had a perfect view of Azelma in her bed. 

"What're you doing?" She asked suddenly sleepy.

"I'm not going to leave you alone. I don't want you to run out tonight." He pulled out a worn novel, burying his nose in it stoically. She watched him for a long time just turning the pages looking beautiful, he was everything she wanted and everything she couldn't have. It's not like she thought she deserved such a great guy, especially given her under-handed, manipulating actions tonight. But she could still dream. How she desired nothing more than being in his arms again.

"'Ferre?" 

"Yes?" He bookmarked his page like a gentleman, so he could listen to her and cater to her needs.

"Since we're not telling 'Ponine anything about tonight, could you-" She paused trying to gather enough courage. "Hold me? While I sleep?" He looked at her with sympathy in his lovely eyes. Pressing his lips together he dutifully nodded, crawling under the covers and holding her. It was a cuddle as innocent as they came, nothing romantic, like a brother would a sister, but to Azelma it was the most romantic, wonderful, perfect thing of her life. She had unrecoverably fallen for her sister's man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little comment on Jehan/Enjolras, Enjolras basically just wants him as a fake boyfriend but Jehan isn't aware of this. Poor thing that hopeless romantic. Next chapter we have a date! And we see Courfeyrac flirt with his play book!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras stands up for the new guy, Grantaire gets angry and Courfeyrac flirts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does not have the group date in. Sorry! But it has a nice moment where Enjolras looks out for Marius. Courfeyrac is flirty and awesome.

Marius woke up by a thud of a book next to his pretty head. He had fallen asleep in class again, but really he couldn't help it, he hadn't slept at all last night, Cosette and him skyped all night last night. He was so in love with her it was uncanny! Never did he think he would find such a romance as the ones he read of in great novels, he loved reading almost as much as his Cosette. And there he went, his mind had wandered away from his professor glaring at him after dropping a book next to him.

"Mr. Pontmercy!" He scolded "Were you sleeping in my class?" Marius was very shy and didn't like that the entire class was staring at him. "Well? Were you?" He was growing more impatient by the minute. Marius was flustered, at loss for words, he needed rescuing dearly and he had just the friend for the job. Enjolras stood up boldly from the back of the room. 

"Excuse me Professor, my friend Marius pays to be a part of your class, if he wishes to sleep through it, he should be allowed to. I believe you should be apologizing to Marius for waking him and to us for interrupting a class we pay for." He put plainly. He was charming but authoritive enough to verbal castrate the professor. The teacher looked shocked and just as much fluster and at a loss for words as Marius was when his snoozing had been confronted. Marius admired and thanked Enjolras for his confidence with a kind smile directed towards him. The smile was returned softly with a nod that told him he didn't need to thank for standing up for his new friend. 

"Sit down, Enjolras." He order trying to regain his authority but he made a big show about staying on his feet. 

Jehan, who was courageous enough at the right times, even if he was courageous in a fuchsia cardigan and very feminine fashion scarf, joined his date for tonight in standing. "Don't mind us!" Jehan brightly returned. The professor narrowed his eyes shooting, glares at both of them. He turned around, sauntering towards the front of the room. While his back was turned, a few other students stood whether to annoy the professor or to show him they weren't to be messed with, it made Enjolras beam proudly. The professor warned the newly out of their chairs students with his intense eyes. They cowardly bent down into their chairs watching Enjolras and Jehan stand. 

It was all sort of pointless; they were revolting for no reason, just for the fun of upsetting their least favorite professor.

The remainder of class they disobediently stood as the professor lectured them and Marius drifted asleep in peace, knowing he had the right to. None of the information he rattled off was absorbed by the students, they unsystematically looked back at the two rebellious boys instead of scribbling down notes. 

When class ended Marius sought after Jehan and Enjolras. They were chatting about some rally the group attended last weekend when Marius snuck up behind them.

"Thanks for that." He said out of breath from running to catch up to them. "You really saved me."

"Don't mention it," Enjolras waved his thanks away. "Your one of us now, it's our job to stick up for each other."

Jehan turned to Marius. "Hey Marius, you've told us so much about your girlfriend, and even though I know her, I'm sure Enjolras, Combeferre and Eponine would like to meet her. You should join us tonight; we could have a triple date!" Jehan did a girly little happy dance with a squeal. 

Just then, Joly was passing by and heard word of a triple date. "Triple date?" He enthused joining the posse "I'm offended!" He gasped. "Why weren't Bossuet and I invited? We're a couple too!" He put his hands on his hips. When his hands were positioned there, he itched his sides. He began hyperventilating into a paper bag he yanked out of his pocket. "I think.... I have.... Chicken pox!" He was shaking. 

"As long as you don't do that, you're welcome to come!" Jehan rubbed his back soothingly as the group laughed good-naturedly at Joly's little freak out.

\---------

Marius was humming a happy little tune when he pranced gracefully into the dorm. Courfeyrac looked up from his styro-foam bowl of ramen noodles that tangled onto a white plastic spork, just to watch and smirk at Marius's gleefully entrance. 

"What's got you so happy?" He teased shoveling noodles into his mouth. But Marius wasn't listening; he twirled about until Grantaire stormed in bitterly and promptly knocked him over on purpose.

"Stop dancing, there is nothing to be happy about!" He retired to his apartment under Courfeyrac's bed longing for the alcohol he needed desperately. Courfeyrac helped Marius to his feet apologizing for Grantaire' behavior, which in his opinion, he did too often. Marius was rattled near tears from Grantaire's major bubble bursting. 

"Grantaire!" He scolded swiping away his bottle, clearly angered. Courfeyrac didn't usually yell at Grantaire, but he had enough of this! "What the hell is your problem? You don't just come in and push Marius, he's your friend. Just because you’re being moody and in a shitty mood doesn't mean you have to make everyone else all moody and in a shitty mood!" He hollered. Marius curled up into a fetal position letting tears silently flow heavily down his model cheeks. 

"You know what? I don't give a rat's ass! I don't need Marius rubbing his perfect life in my face!" He retorted with fury unlike anything Courfeyrac had ever seen, a fury that scared Marius out of the room.

"Look what you've done!" He wasn't yelling anymore but Courfeyrac was every bit as intense as Grantaire's drunken shouts. "Are you happy Grantaire?" He harshly barked.

For a moment it looked like Grantaire was going to burst with rage, his face was redder than all of Marius's awkward blushes combined and doubled. The veins on his neck were bulging with his blood-shot, dilated eyes. But when he opened his mouth to scream an angry reply, he cooled down to his normal pale skin "No." He shook his head regretfully. "I'm not happy, I'm not happy that I upset Marius, I'm not happy that I made you yell and I'm not happy that Enjolras is going on a date with.. Jehan." He crescendo through his confession. "Heartless bitch." He muttered. "And I'll never be happy again." He admitted. Even though the whole display was slightly theatrical, Courfeyrac knew that he was not being over dramatic. Enjolras going on a date with someone else, especially a man, was enough to kill the poor drunkard. Marius wandered back in.

"Grantaire, it's ok that you pushed me and yelled and got angry, but it's not ok that you're never going to be happy again." He had been intently listening while he took a sniffle break in the hall. He snuggled up next to Grantaire sweetly. "You may be kind of a Debbie downer at times, and you may be annoying, but I like you a lot Grantaire, you really are one of my best friends, I don't want you to be sad anymore." He pet his curly hair soothingly as he cooed his words of friendship into his ear.

"Dude, you need to get a grip. But you know thanks; I might keep you after all!" The two shared genuine smiles for a moment.

"If it makes you feel any better," He stood to look in his suitcase for a date-worthy outfit. "Enjolras's date isn't going to be very romantic, Joly and Bossuet, Combeferre and Eponine and Cosette and I are all going." He pulled out a tie that was tied to another tie, and another, and another, he continued tugging the chain until he successfully ripped out his collection. He glanced between the two of them wondering who was to blame for these shenanigans. Grantaire slyly raised his hand.

"Did you say.... Jehan?" Courfeyrac asked nervously. He wanted to address this when Grantaire brought it up previously but the timing wasn't right.

"And Combeferre with Eponine? are they together?" Grantaire asked cautiously. Marius nodded finding his socks to be balled up in mismatched pairs. "I've gotta find the Pixie!" He wasted no time racing out of his dorm. Courfeyrac exchanged a look with Marius that read: 'What just happened here?' Marius shrugged and sat on his bed to file his neat nails.

"Hey, Jehan and Enjolras?" He shifted uncomfortably. "That's kind of weird....." He itched his arm not wanting to reveal he had a fondness for the little poet twink. Marius just shrugged again shaping his nails like a girl would at a slumber party. He tried to pretend to laugh at picturing a date between the fragile baby and the hot-headed leader. "I think I want to see that!" He hinted at wanting to come by elbowing Marius.

"You should come." Marius put away his filer. When he stood, he yanked off his shirt, something Courfeyrac still wasn't used to seeing. Marius had a delicately muscular build that always made his flirtatious roommate’s mouth water! Courfeyrac collected himself.

"Really? I can come?" He half joked. Marius nodded slipping on a shirt.

"If you have a date." 

His task had just began. Courfeyrac could pick up girls or guys with such ease and grace. This should be simple. And of course a little fun.

\-----

Grantaire could hear whimpering from upstairs when Combeferre let him in. Not even having the respect to greet Combeferre, he pushed past him and hurried up the stairs. Him and Combeferre were never close, they both liked Enjolras very much (in different ways) and like children they'd get jealous when Enjolras granted either of them more attention (Grantaire guiltier than Combeferre) They hardly spoke ever to each other but still were friendly towards one another when it was called for. Seeing that Grantaire was her for Azelma, he slumped back on the couch to read his book. Grantaire was in a hurry to reach Azelma, so much so that he was taking to stairs at a time. When he got to the second level, he calmed himself in preparation to comfort Azelma. He straightened up and gulping big steady breathes, he walked to Azelma's room. 

He could have easily predicted and sketched the scene he saw before he laid eyes on it. She was singing softy to no one as she cradled a teddy bear; she was taking in the bears scent very carefully as if it reminded her of better times or better people. On the floor around her were wadded up balls of tissues and a blade. His eyes grew wide. Was Azelma as broken as he was? Was she really cutting herself? Grantaire seized the blade, shoving it in his pocket. Wordlessly he crouched to his knees in front of her, looking into her puffy red eyes. He tore one of her twiggy arms from the stuffed bear to confirm her cutting. She was turning into him and that scared him. With hopeless tears welling in his eyes he scrambled to his feet and looked away in agony.

"You are never going to cut again. You understand?" He warned choking back tears. She nodded clearly fighting back tears. Soon she was being smothered in a tearful hug. "I'm sorry that you have to feel this way! I'm sorry that you want hurt yourself. But the world is gonna hurt you enough on its own." Grantaire pulled away and ran his fingers through her hair just looking at her. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Azelma was quickly becoming like a little sister to him. 

"I know you won't." She wiped a stray tear. 

"So I take it you heard?" She nodded without making eye contact. Grantaire settled in by her side and slung his arm around her. Then she whimpered harder. "I know exactly how you feel; I mean Enjolras is going out with-" 

Azelma cut him off with a painful confession. "I slept with him!" She buried her head in the comfort of her hands. "I came onto him and- and I told him to have s-sex with me then when he didn't I pouted and took out a cigarette, he didn't want me to smoke so he gave me- he gave me.... what I w-wanted, to you know- st-stop me." She nuzzled closer to him. "I didn't know then, b-but still I feel really- really bad." She hid her face in his shoulder. "I love him." Grantaire was out of his element when he was around Azelma; he was usually the depressed one crying for help. He wasn't good with comforting words he was to quippy and sarcastic but somehow Azelma was very different. He understood her and knew what she wanted to hear because it was what he yearned to be told.

"I know you do. You didn't know he was with Eponine, you did nothing wrong and I promise the hurt won't kill you unless you let it." Azelma wrapped his arms around Grantaire their legs tangling together innocently. 

"I have a plan." She started cautiously. Grantaire was ready to listen. "Maybe we could go on their group date together." Grantaire furrowed his brow unsure if she was trying to rebound. "Not like as a date but so we can see what's going on. You know, not sabotage but more like- observe, make sure nothing- happens." Grantaire contemplated the idea. Could they even pass as a couple? And even if they could, would his friends think he was a pedophile? He banished the thought of touching Azelma inappropriately with a shake of his head. She waited patiently for the answer. It would give him peace at mind to be present on Enjolras's date, so he knew exactly what the deal was. Another plus was he could glare at Jehan if he pulled any crap like trying to be all gushy and romantic, kissing him or even sitting just a little too close to his light, his inspiration, his perfect thing. Who was he kidding, Enjolras, with all his beauty, all his passion, all his light was not his anything! If he didn't stop Jehan from swooping in tonight, he may never be his.

"I'm in."

\---------------

It has been a long time since he wrote something in his play book, so Courfeyrac was hoping genius would strike him today in his flirting endeavors and he could write down a new scheme to pick up a date. He swaggered deviously to the cafeteria, the ideal place to woe women and men alike, he was so glad he was bi, he liked having options. 

He saw his target, a beautiful blonde girl twirling her curly hair around her painted fingers dumbly. The wheels started turning in his head as he conjured a scheme to make her fall for him. She seemed simple and by simple, he meant easy. All he'd need was a pickup line to break the ice and then he could toss his hair around and be all dreamy and such. But she probably not going to swoon over something cheesy like 'Are you from Tennessee? 'Cause you're the only ten I see.' He need to sound natural.

 

"Hey gorgeous!" He flashed a sexy smolder. She giggled with a blush that was not nearly as adorable as Marius's blushes. 

"Hi!" She gave of a dumb southern belle vibe that Courfeyrac could work of off. He planned his play and put in action.

To start, he would need to look very concerned but still hot. "I'm sorry to ask, but I'm a nursing major and I was wondering if you've been tested for..." He hit a road block in his elaborate lie, he thought of a phony disease name as the blonde listened eager to hear what he has to say. "Heart-acidizes?" He watched her gullible face flush with concern.

"No, why? Do you think I should?" She rested her hand against his leg to gain balance. He nodded urgently.

"Right away! Here, if you'd like, I can do it right here!" She agreed with no hesitation. "I'll just need to listen to your heart." She hurriedly grabbed his head and pulled his ear snuggly against her bulging breasts. He felt them heave because of her quickened breath due to her worry. How he cherished this moment, his head in between tanned, firm breasts, and he wasn't even going to be slapped when he left the comfort of her chest. Taking his time 'inspecting' her 'heart', he finally returned. 

"Am I going to die?" The blonde looked deeply troubled by the suspense. 

"I think you're in the clear. So how about dinner tonight?" He causally segwayed.

"Oh I'd really like that, but I think I should go see the nurse for a second opinion!" She scrambled out of her seat to the door. Wow he really made some poor, innocent, stupid but smoking hot girl think she was going to die of heart-acidizes. He sighed and looked for his prey, he wanted to try his hand at a guy, someone obviously gay, so it wouldn't get awkward. Using his gaydar, he scanned the room. His eye landed on something beautiful, smiling sipping on some tea at a table full of familiar faces. 

Jehan. 

What a delightful creature with his sparkling glasz doe eyes and his long braided caramel hair. Courfeyrac had dreamed of lying down next to Jehan, tangled in his unbraided locks. What a night that would be. Even though he'd like to ask Jehan to go on the group date with him, Enjolras snagged him. Some friend he was! He stole the boy Courfeyrac had secretly been pining for since they first met! Of course he'd kept his secret well and Enjolras was not one to notice anything to do with love, he probably doesn't even realize Grantaire adores him. How could he expect someone entirely wrapped up in his causes to see Courfeyrac's well-guarded secret? Why did Enjolras suddenly decide he needed a man? Since when was Enjolras gay? Since when was Enjolras anything? 

Courfeyrac stopped, he was getting off track. Another scan and he found a nice enough looking guy with hipster glasses without lenses which would aggravate the hell out of Grantaire but Courfeyrac couldn't bring Grantaire’s opinion into this. He sauntered over to him mentally running through his plan.

"I'm so sorry to bother you but I love your scarf! You must tell me where you got it!" He enthused doing his best impression of an overly flamboyant, fruity fashionista. The boy with his gelled black hair (nothing like Jehan's slightly mousy, but gorgeous, light brown fluffy hair) ate it up. He flipped his hand downward, very stereotypically gay.

"You’re not going to believe it!" He obviously liked telling the story. "I got it at Target!" Courfeyrac looked at him shocked with a flirty little gasp.

"No!"

"I know right? Who would have thought?" The two giggled soaking in each others good looks stupidly. "Sebastian." He introduced himself, Courfeyrac returning the gesture with his name.

"Well maybe we could talk more about high fashion at low prices tonight." Courfeyrac tossed his hair subtly as his tone eased back to normal. "Some of my friends are going to dinner; it would be nice to have such well-dressed slice like you to show off." He gave a cute little wink that made him swoon.

"Well Courfeyrac-"

"Please, you can call me Courf." He beamed a bright smile.

"Courf," He corrected "I'd love to go to dinner with you; you seem like a great guy, but-"

"Of course!" Courfeyrac interceded throwing his arms in the air choking back fake tears. "There's always a but!" He pretended to be in dismay. Sebastian was very sympathetic, lending him his hand in his shoulder. "I mean I put myself out there and then I'm rejected! What's wrong with me, Sebastian?" He cried. His acting was superb! Sebastian was buying it!

"Oh sweetie, there's nothing wrong with you!" He detested how he said sweetie like the word belonged to him. No, sweetie and every pet name was property of Jehan. "Really! You're very kind and very attractive, I just can't tonight! But here," He scrawled on a slip of paper a code of digits that made up his phone number. "Whenever you’re free, give me a call!" He signed his name with a flourish that reminded him painfully of Jehan. Courfeyrac weakly smiled departing with a friendly wave. 

Ok, next! He decided to try his luck in the Cafe off the side of the main cafeteria. Maybe he'd stumble into his date if he aimlessly wandered. There she was, a fine piece of ass! She was bent over in a tight skirt scooping up something off the floor. 

"Hello sexy!" He greeted like a reflex, with a pinch on her butt. The sexy girl with tan shapely legs popped up and turned to see Courfeyrac, of course it was Musichetta. 

"That was a nice surprise!" She smirked. Courfeyrac blushed, but when he opened his mouth to explain himself but no words came out. "So," She strutted over to her table as Courfeyrac followed her, hypnotized for some reason. "What brings you here?" She swallowed a mouthful of coffee with a frothy topping.

"I just wanted- um uh a coffee!" He blurted out. Musichetta looked unimpressed. "Fine, I was looking for a date for their stupid group date!" He scowled slightly. Musichetta pulled out the chair across for her prompting him to sit.

"Why do you wanna go?"

"I kind of have a thing for Jehan..." He trailed of. Musichetta never looked so understanding.

"I know exactly how you feel." She rested her cheek on the fist that's corresponding elbow was propped up on the table lazily. "Well not exactly, my feelings may be a little more complicated." She pouted. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes.

"That's a little vain." He teased but Musichetta's eyes were growing very watery. "What's wrong?" He shifted his tone. She tried her hardest to be tough and blink away the tears, to be the girl who always flirted but never fell in love, but that wasn't her, at least anymore.

"I was kind of Joly and Bossuet’s double beard." She stated flatly. "That's when I fell in love. With both of them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok next stop, group date!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Group date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I would really like to get some more kudos *hint hint* so if you could that would be lovely!

Grantaire was passed out on his already dingy mattress while Courfeyrac gussied up in front of his mirror. Marius awkwardly sat cross-legged listening to Courfeyrac give him advice as he adjusted his bow tie.

"Don't be too forward; Cosette doesn't seem like that kind of girl." Courfeyrac instructed. That's when Grantaire woke up to share his thoughts on that comment.

"C'mon Courf! Mar'us is just a 'ittle baby! He's idea of bein to forward is 'olding 'er 'and!" He laughed still groggy from his drunken slumber. Whenever Grantaire firsts wakes up after drinking he always has pretty bad speech but soon enough he's back to normal, well normal for Grantaire. Courfeyrac swatted a magazine at Grantaire getting a sickeningly adorable giggle out of Marius.

Just then a faint little knock made all the boys freeze in place. One of their dates had arrived. Courfeyrac was the first to flinch out of his stillness but gave Marius that said: Do you want to get that? Unfortunately Marius was still unmoving, so Courfeyrac turned to Grantaire with the same expression. Grantaire rolled his eyes and stood, when he was next to the door he barked;

"Who is it?" This was followed by Courfeyrac and Marius looking at him with wide eyes. A small but beautiful voice with a sing-songy tone replied.

"Cosette, may I come in?" Marius jumped off his bed when Grantaire went to open the door. He tackled him, but his weight was not able to knock Grantaire over. Although, he did stumble around due to impact. When Marius got off a Grantaire’s back he blocked him off from door, adjusted his soft hair and mentally prepared to open the door. He turned the knob and revealed something so splendid, so pure the three boys felt their jaws drop. She was batting her eyes shyly in a wonderful light blue dress that cut off in a subtle scallop below her knees. Marius was dangerously close to pulling a Jehan with the way she looked. 

"Sorry about my roommate." He said feeling he needed to speak. Cosette blush a little.

"It's alright; he's probably a great person underneath." Marius pondered that comment and shook his head.

"That's what I thought too. At first." He joked, reddening Cosette's blush. For a long fantastic moment, the two just smiled at each other stupidly, so overjoyed to be in each other's presences that neither of them felt the need to exchange anymore words. To both of their dismay, Musichetta interrupted the romantic moment. 

"Eh hem! Blocking the doorway!" She put her hands on her intoxicating hips. Clearing the way, Marius took Cosette by the arm pulling her closely, making them both blush. Musichetta and Courfeyrac had agreed to go together seeing that they both wanted to keep an eye on those they love. 

Comparing Cosette to Musichetta was endlessly entertaining. Cosette was simplistically beautiful while Musichetta was exotically sexy. Cosette had tidy blonde hair while Musichetta had intentionally messy black hair. And their dresses were very different. Musichetta was sporting a skin tight, strapless peplum dress with a deep sweet heart neckline. On top of that, it was metallic silver and dangerously close to revealing whatever skimpy lace string she passed off as underwear. If she even bothered to wear underwear. Cosette was miles more modest!

"Hey Courf!" She greeted with a sloppy kiss. Her lips tasted of strong alcohol and cigarette smoke.

"Have you been drinking?" He questioned after she released. 

"Not any more than usual!" She lied. "Usual for Grantaire!" Grantaire flipped her off casually from his mattress while he downed a bottle of beer. Cosette looked scandalized by the gesture. Just then Eponine appeared in the doorway holding her lovely little sister by the hand. Azelma was modestly dressed, probably at Eponine's command since she didn't approve of Grantaire taking her out even if she'd be just across the table. Her floral dress had a great cardigan accent. Grantaire stood up in a thin white V-neck and baggy black pants to get a better look at his little Azelma. Eponine swatted his hand away when he reached out for Azelma's. 

"Grantaire, we have to set some ground rules!" She pulled her sister closer. "That," She pointed at his crotch. "Stays in your pants," Grantaire rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue mockingly. "That," She pressed his tongue back into his mouth with her pointer finger. "In your mouth!"

"Are you implying that I'm allowed to kiss your sister?" He smirked. Eponine rubbed her arm uneasily.

"That's really yours and Azelma's call, but only a peck at the end of the night. A peck with your mouth nothing dirty." She wagged her finger at him. Azelma looked radiant in comparison of how she looked earlier that day in her bedroom. 

"C'mon 'Ponine! Don't you trust him with the pixie?" Musichetta snorted. She shook her head violently.

"I know the guy's obsessed with Enjolras, but still, he's a major perv!" 

The sister's shared a hug good bye and then Eponine was on her way to Combeferre's murmuring something about how she rather Azelma go out with Courfeyrac! At least he wasn't as grabby and drunk. Grantaire led Azelma into the dorm gently. She was wearing a bright smile as she fell into Grantaire's brotherly embrace. Courfeyrac coughed something that sounded suspiciously like the word pedophile. Both of them glared at him. 

"Looks like we're all here!" Courfeyrac clasped his hands together. "Shall we head out?" Marius and Cosette were too amazed by each other to respond, Musichetta was already half way out the door and Azelma and Grantaire were basically joined at the hip as they waited to follow Courfeyrac. 

The six of them were able to pile up into Musichetta's party van which had orange flames crawling across it and a mattress in the back where the other couples had to take a seat. "Is everybody buckled?" Musichetta joked pulling out of the parking lot. "So, Courfy, where are we going again?" She fiddled with the radio until finding an acceptable station.

"Corinth." He returned. The group was relatively quiet, even if someone decided to strike up a conversation; they'd be drowned out by the sound of the blaring radio.

\-----------

Enjolras took a long look in the mirror. This was a mistake. He was leading poor Jehan on and that certainly wasn't right. Truthfully, Enjolras wanted nothing to do with the dating scene, he asked him on one date hoping to prove something to the bullies. But it turns out the bullies had lost interest in the magnificent slab of marble to move on to easier prey, so now the date was pointless and undesired. If only he could back out respectfully. He wasn't even sure if Jehan knows he was only a beard to begin with. At least he wouldn't be alone, he'd have Combeferre there to keep him in line, a whole group of people to keep the conversation flowing and Grantaire to….. Do whatever Grantaire does. Why did he bring Grantaire into his thoughts? Again? 

He had been thinking about Grantaire a lot lately for no particular reason. Grantaire had always been his responsibility and there was no good explanation for that. He should be Courfeyrac's responsibility seeing that they live together and they have been friends since before he'd met them. Oddly enough, Grantaire had a talent for pushing Enjolras to his limits, mocking his beliefs and sexually harassing him. Still Enjolras was always there for Grantaire, because without him, he is somehow incomplete, no matter how much he detests him. 

Trying to avoid Jehan as much as he could without being rude, he made up a phony excuse of why he had to meet him there. He was driving in his car in peace when it hit him, why was Grantaire always seeking his attention? Normally Enjolras was the busiest of the bunch, couldn't he choose someone else to bother, someone who didn't scold him or kick or threaten him? Sometimes Grantaire perplexed him, a cynic who craved an idealist’s attention. He sighed trying to think of anything else. Why was his mind wandering so much today?

\-------

The couples all sat next to each other happily at one long table. Musichetta and Courfeyrac were across from Bossuet with his tacky fedora and his lover Joly who gripped his arm lovingly for the first time in public. Courfeyrac was next Jehan who was next to Enjolras and looking longingly for some romantic attention. Across from the poet and anti-sexual was Grantaire and Azelma, like usual Eponine sat next to Azelma, the only thing in between her and her beloved Combeferre. The only remaining couple, the two lovebirds; Marius and his darling Cosette, were Combeferre and Eponine's view. 

Musichetta was flirting with Bossuet and Joly by flipping her hair and thrusting her bulging breasts towards them. Courfeyrac was cracking cute little jokes in Jehan's ear, making him giggle lightly. Grantaire was arguing with Enjolras playfully while Enjolras was turning red in rage. Azelma watched, pouting subtly, Combeferre adore her sister, combing through her hair like he once did to her. But Eponine seemed distracted by someone named Marius sitting across from her. 

"You are a disease!" Enjolras threw his arms in the air exasperated.

"You don't mean that!" Grantaire teased. He winked at the angelic blonde who was narrowing his fiery blue eyes at him.

"I most certainly do! You're a drunken bastard! I swear if you don't stop being such a useless sack of shit, I'll castrate you!" Cosette clung to Marius; she didn't like their fighting disturbing her wordless splendor with Marius. Everyone else seemed unaffected by the heated conversation in the middle of the table, Jehan was a little bored with his date paying more attention to Grantaire, but luckily Courfeyrac was doing his best to entertain him. 

"If Grantaire was a disease he'd be syphilis." Courfeyrac whispered sweetly into his secret crush's cute ear. Jehan blushed trying not to laugh and draw attention to himself. Most of Courfeyrac's jokes made him very uncomfortable because they were a little crass for his tastes and partly because Courfeyrac's hands wandered when he leaned over to tell one. Sometimes his hand would trace his spine, giving him chills. On other occasions he'd find the frisky boy's hands trailing on his upper leg, venturing to his inner thigh in a more than friendly manner. But a touch he really welcomed was when Courfeyrac caressed his neck, making its hair stand straight. Courfeyrac had away with handling people. For some reason, no one found their interactions inappropriate even though they weren't on this date together; everyone dismissed it as friendly exchanges. 

Musichetta was engaging in a lively conversation of the dirty nature when a waitress arrived to take their orders.

"Hi! I'm Mindy and I'll be serving you tonight! Can I start you off with some drinks?" She smiled brightly at Joly.

"Water's fine" Joly was cuddling with Bossuet so closely that his speech was a little muffled. She scribbled his order down before nodding at his cuddle partner who murmured the same. Musichetta recited the lengthy name of a very flavorful sounding alcoholic beverage as she whipped out her ID proving she was 21, even though she was not. The card clearly had a faulty date printed onto it. Courfeyrac ordered a flaming Dr. Pepper, his ID had his real birthdate on it, but since he was 21, his drinking was legal. 

"May I have your herbal tea, please?" Jehan asked politely. Mindy nodded approvingly. Before she finished writing out herbal tea, Enjolras told her he just wanted water. Grantaire asked for some masculine beer brand and chewed Mindy out when she said they didn't carry it there. Water was Azelma and Eponine's orders. Combeferre requested Diet Coke.

"Is Pepsi okay?" Combeferre hung his head, resigned with a sigh and agreed. Somehow Mindy managed to break Marius and Cosette apart to take their order of lemonade for both of them. Eponine excused herself and Azelma to the bathroom, Musichetta went along with them. Grantaire looked a little hurt from Enjolras's comments earlier. This time, Enjolras didn't need Combeferre's 'Fix it' look to swoop in. 

"I wouldn’t really castrate you." 

Grantaire smirked at him. Enjolras smiled a bit back. "I know." Grantaire shifted uncomfortably. How he loved those rare moments when Enjolras apologized.

"Then stop looking so depressed!" He said exasperated "You make me look like the bad guy!" Grantaire laughed. Enjolras was beyond perfection, he was all the light and good of the world wrapped into one immaculate package; he could never look like the bad guy. 

Jehan rolled his eyes, Enjolras was supposed to be with him! Why wasn't he talking to him? Courfeyrac couldn't be happier to take advantage of this opportunity. 

The drinks arrived with the returning girls. Cosette decided it was time to strike a full table discussion. "So, I hear that you guys are very into politics, even attend rallies and such, I'm really very interested in hearing more!" She prompted all aglow in her sunshiny attitude. Everyone looked to Enjolras, their leader, to elaborate on their political endeavors only to find him looking at Grantaire pensively, confused. When he felt the eyes on him he snapped to attention. 

"Well Cosette, most recently, we have been starting small scale protests, mainly sign waving, chanting and occasionally we get some publicity on local news stations. Right now, thanks to Courfeyrac, our main focus is legalizing Gay Marriage. Seeing that many of the people in our group are in fact homosexual or bisexual, Gay rights are something we all feel very strongly about." Enjolras always spoke so eloquently. He had a way of speaking that inspired people and made them listen. Cosette looked interested enough and nodded at appropriate intervals. Enjolras went on ranting about Gay rights and other projects they'd been working on and even though the friends had heard all before they caught themselves listening intently, Grantaire especially. He was not into politics, he had no interest in whatever Enjolras was saying, just the way he was saying it. His passion was catching and frankly, sexy. 

Azelma swooned when Combeferre added something philosophical to Enjolras's ramblings. Eponine drooled over Marius instead of her boyfriend, if she was going to selfishly steal him away from her; the least she could do was give him the love and respect he deserved. If he was Azelma's she'd adore him and never look at another man! 

Jehan wasn't bitter about Enjolras not being affectionate or paying attention to him anymore, Courfeyrac was keeping him entertained with a steamy game of footsies under the table. Jehan was sort of out of his element with the flirting and Courfeyrac's eagerness to touch him, but he kind of liked it, shamefully. 

Musichetta continued pressing her boobs together, batting her thick eyelashes sending Joly and Bossuet looks and playful winks. She was a bit disappointed that the loving couple was too wrapped up in their snuggling and soft, plentiful kisses. Of course she was happy for her friends, she loved them both so much it was nice to see them so cheerful and open about their relationship, but it stung. One day they would all be together and that way they could all be happy. She'd known them for ages! Since Joly was twelve and Bossuet was fourteen! Eight years! They were inseparable! The very best eight years of her life.

When Mindy, the waitress, returned, she asked for everyone's order. Joly was first to order. They all ordered their dishes politely. The rest of the date was full of small talk and uninteresting chatter. 

The group left after dividing the bill. Courfeyrac walked Jehan out because Enjolras was helping the very drunk and unstable Grantaire stagger out the door. "Thanks for being there for me tonight." Jehan blushed giving his thanks to Courfeyrac before skipping off to join Enjolras. Azelma followed Combeferre and Eponine longingly; he had her so close to his tall, muscular body. Musichetta had her arms around her beloved boys cackling her exotic laugh when Bossuet tripped slightly on the uneven gravel. Marius helped Cosette into the back of Musichetta's party truck with the upmost respect for her.

The three couples (Cosette and Marius, Azelma and Grantaire and Courfeyrac and Musichetta) that drove together were all loaded into the van. "Well that date was a total flop!" Musichetta threw her hands in the air. Courfeyrac quirked his eyebrow.

"What are you talking about? You, Joly and Bossuet had a great time flirting!" He assured her with a light push.

"If we had a great time, you guys would be walking and I'd be having a three-way in the back!" She exclaimed making the passenger's sitting on her mattress stirred uncomfortably. The thought of sitting where Musichetta has sex made them shudder.

"Combeferre didn't even look at me!" Azelma grumbled cuddling up with Grantaire who was sympathetic enough but still reveling in his small victory with Enjolras. The ride was brief because Cosette only lived a few blocks away. Marius, being such a gentleman, walked her to her door.

"Marius, I had a really lovely time tonight." She smiled sparkling in the light on the porch. Marius looked at her succulent red lips wanting so bad to kiss them, run his fingers through her silky blonde hair or maybe his hands would venture around her hips.

No.

That wasn't him. He gave her a quick smile "Me too." he nodded. Still he wanted to give her his lips somehow, so he took her hand to give it a tender kiss. Stomach full of fluttering butterflies, Cosette floated into the house not saying anything more. "Wow." He muttered gazing at the door. Merrily he danced back to the car clearly smitten.

They arrived at Combeferre's house just after Eponine and him. Grantaire led little Azelma to the door noticing Eponine peeking through the blinds. Sticking out his tongue at her, Grantaire chuckled at Eponine's protectiveness over her sister. "Thanks for going with me tonight." Azelma beamed up at her best friend. "Eponine did say you could kiss me if you'd like." She teased with a soft giggle. 

"You wanna freak her out?" 

"How?" 

"Making out." Azelma snorted but then she thought about it. It would be nice to be kissed by Grantaire even if it didn't drive her sister bats. Cautiously she extended her pinkie.

"Promise thus won't affect our friendship?" Grantaire linked pinkies with her giving a nod and a goofy wink. Azelma threw her arms around his neck lovingly while he handled her by her hips and pressed his lips against her with confidence and strength. Azelma felt his lips part, taking it as an invitation to slip her tongue in slowly, wetting the kiss. Eponine lost it when Azelma wrapped her legs around him sexually; she was out the door in a split second with a pair of scissors.

"Get the hell out of here before I cut your balls off!" She threatened. Grantaire released her, gave her one last brotherly kiss on her forehead and hurried away. Eponine tugged on Azelma's wrist and pulled her harshly inside. 

Grantaire embraced the teasing from Courfeyrac about making out with a minor. "You're just jealous that I got more action than you!" Courfeyrac scoffed bitterly. Musichetta dropped them off at the dorm giving Courfeyrac nothing more than a friendly hug and wishes of a good night. Grantaire retired to his mattress pulling out a beer from the mini-fridge and swallowed it in one satisfied slurp. The other two undressed and exchanged their clothes for pajamas.

\------

Meanwhile Enjolras was regretfully driving Jehan home. He felt guilty that Jehan was going to ride his bike home in the dark, so being the gentleman he was, he offered to take his date and bike back home. 

It was a tense car ride, Enjolras was feeling pretty rude but he couldn't stand to look at him right now. Why did he ask him out? There are more important things than romance; his little life doesn't count at all! It's all about the big picture, the world being free. When they arrived Enjolras didn't waste time with getting unbuckled and opening Jehan's door for him. With a precious little nod, Jehan thanked his date who then proceeded to bring him to the door. 

Jehan had a very lovely house with flowers in little rectangular baskets hanging at the window sills and a homey porch with two handcrafted rocking chairs angled toward each other to welcome conversation. The yard was adorned with shrubbery and flowers and all sorts of plants for Jehan to tend to. Enjolras can recall the house being two levels including the dark basement below, on the first level was the kitchen, living space and a bedroom. The bathroom was in the basement, which Enjolras vividly remembered because it was so inconvenient.

Before Jehan went inside he decided it was about time he got some romantic attention. Even though he'd rather kiss Courfeyrac given that night's events, he was going to have Enjolras kiss him.

"I had a really great time tonight." With Courfeyrac he almost added. Enjolras was antsy to leave so he agreed rather than complaining about Grantaire. 

"Me too." Jehan inched closer trying his hardest to be sexy and appeal to Enjolras. To draw attention to his soft girlish lips, he moistened them and let his teeth lightly scrape the bottom one in a seductive bite that would have turned Courfeyrac on, no questions asked. Enjolras only shifted awkwardly looking at the ground. This was going to be a lot harder than Jehan intended. Gather his courage he sprang up on his tip toes and leaned in. Enjolras panicked. He was not going to be kissed! This was not happening! He noticed Jehan's hand nearing to take Enjolras's waist, his hand with its delicate thin long fingers was at a good shaking level. With thinking he grabbed Jehan's hand and shook it firmly causing the poet to abruptly stop his approach. 

"Nice seeing you." Enjolras said urgently. Jehan looked confused and frankly a bit hurt. 

"Enjolras? What's going on?" He asked cautiously. Enjolras opened his mouth to make an excuse, but he couldn't think of anything but the truth. He let out a sigh.

"I'm just not into that kind of stuff." He searched for a form of elaboration. "Dating and romance and being sexual just isn't for me. I have come to the conclusion that in fact I am not a sexual person." He noticed his friend welling up with tears, he needed a save "But if I were, Jehan, you'd be the loveliest partner for me, I'm truly sorry things didn't work between us." Jehan looked wounded with his obscenely adorable half smile. Jehan wrapped him in a friendly hug and whispered;

"It's ok, I understand." He softly grazed Enjolras's angular cheek with his pink lips. "Good night Enjolras, you truly are a noble friend." Jehan walked in side weakly waving. Enjolras collapsed on Jehan's stairs to the friendly little porch, putting his face in his masculine hands, ashamed. He felt like a jerk. Jehan was so fragile, a broken heart, especially two in a row, could destroy him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your continued support! Sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors I didn't catch. Please tell me what you think with some kudos or a comment. Or both.... (:


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan is obsessed with Pinterest, everyone thinks Enjolras loves Grantaire (Except Marius), Combeferre and Eponine have a good time, Enjolras gets a wake up call and Azelma makes a huge mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone even reading this?

Christmas was approaching fast and the festivities of this holiday needed planning and Jehan was just the man to do it. Generally, they'd all spend Christmas Eve together snuggled up in one of the friend's living room unwrapping little trinkets they exchanged. This year, Jehan was hosting and was on Pinterest as often as he could gather ideas. So far, he planned on having a fondue night at his house instead of a meal, that way he didn't have to serve Christmas dinner. They'd start the night off with salads followed by cheese fondue and a chocolate fondue for desert. The evening would be full of cheerful holiday films, chatter and laughter. 

As he was scrolling through Pinterest, he spotted a marvelous idea. Naturally he clicked on it to see the full page. Every detail excited him, so he printed a few copies for his friends, stuffed them in his bike basket and rode to the Musain. 

Some of his friends were sitting together drinking coffees and other drinks gleefully. Feuilly was folding paper into flowers quickly to weave into Azelma's braid while she was doodling with Grantaire on the same piece of slightly crumpled note-book paper. Sitting close to Marius was Eponine, whose low cut V-neck made her obvious flirting even more desperate. Combeferre wasn't paying enough attention to realize his girlfriend was courting; he was invested in a novel. At the pool table next to their table, Bahorel, Courfeyrac and Bossuet challenged each other at a game of pool, which of course Bossuet had no luck with. Still Joly rooted for him one hundred percent.

"Hey guys!" Jehan greeted placing his stack of papers on the table.

“What are all the papers for?" Feuilly said still focused on a stripped fuchsia and blue paper flower. Courfeyrac walked over to the stack then took one off the top to inspect it. 

"Just something I saw on Pinterest that I thought would be perfect for our Christmas party!" He chirped passing the sheets out.

Bahorel put his pole away to rejoin the table. "Why do you find it fun to ruin our lives with Pinterest?" He joked taking one of his papers. He scanned the paper carefully, which he would not do if anyone else had brought the hand-outs. 

"Isn't it perfect?" He sang. Feuilly glance over Azelma's shoulder to take a look at the idea that got Jehan so jubilant. 

"What the hell is it?" He furrowed his brow snatching it from Azelma. Jehan looked annoyed with that outburst, but entertained his confusion.

"For your information, it's a Christmas version of a wish tree! You take clear ornaments, fill them with glitter to make it all pretty, you write a wish on a slip of paper, bury it in the glitter and then next year see if your wish came true!" He explained his excitement spewing out. The group pondered the idea, even though none of them really cared, they pretended to look intrigued. It was sort of lame, but Jehan made it seem cute with his little burst of joy. 

"Sounds cool." Courfeyrac folded up the paper into his pocket, even though the idea wasn't his favorite, it was something that Jehan gave him and he intended on keeping it. 

Just then, Enjolras, beautiful and strong as always, marched in holding an envelope in his clenched fist. Ignoring his friend’s greetings he pulled Grantaire out of his chair by his collar roughly, wagging the envelope in his face, clearly furious.

"I believe this belongs to you, you sick perv!" He threw the envelope at him. Grantaire scrambled to catch it. He wasn't sure what the content of the envelope was, so he ripped it open, shook it out on his hand and examined it. The picture gave him a good chuckle. It was a joke really, it was Grantaire's face obviously taped on the face of some naked guy he found online.

"Stop being so pissy, pretty boy, it's a joke!" He snorted lightly passing around the picture to let the group take a look.

"Well, my European History professor certainly didn't get your little joke when he found it on my exam!" Enjolras was so irresistibly sexy when he was steaming with rage. Grantaire gave a little ‘oops’ shrug not sure what he could say to make this go away. Doing the only rational thing, Enjolras came at Grantaire ready to attack. Like a reflex, Grantaire tried to escape only to be chased and eventually tackled to the ground. When Enjolras had him pinned Grantaire gave him a wink.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He toyed before being savagely beaten by a very enraged and attractive social activist. The group just rolled their eyes.

"They are so in love!" Courfeyrac sighed watching his friend get beat up while he tried to make his move by grabbing Enjolras's firm ass. Enjolras returned this gesture with pulling at a bit of Grantaire's curly hair. Everyone saw it too, Grantaire and Enjolras, Grantaire being obsessed and Enjolras not recognizing his feelings. Everyone except Marius.

"Um, I don't think so. Enjolras seems to really hate him." Marius gazed over at the little cat-fight. That's not love, he knew love; he was in it. 

"Of course he hates him, sweetie!" Eponine comforted him by putting her arm around him and rubbing his back. "He hates him because he loves him." Marius looked more confused than ever.

"Enjolras isn't like us, he's probably unaware that he has a penis. Sex and romance are the only things he doesn't know everything about and the only things he has decided not to learn about." Courfeyrac elaborated making both Marius and Jehan do twin blushes that were so impossibly darling.

"But Enjolras has always had a thirst to learn, so when he's ready, he'll be eager to be sex-ucated." Combeferre predicted matter-of-factly. 

"For now, he's just angry because he doesn't understand his feelings yet and naturally, since Grantaire is causing him to be so frustrated, he takes it out on him." Joly added.

"Yeah but Grantaire sort of deserves it, he's always doing crap to annoy him and get his attention." Bahorel tipped back his beer bottle slurping down a long drink. 

"But you know, Enjolras always gives him the attention, I mean they always sit by each other in the cafeteria when we're there, even when Grantaire's being a brat trying to get his attention. Enjolras could just get up and go away but he stays and always encourages it by not ignoring it. They so love each other!" Courfeyrac concluded just as Grantaire managed to escape, Enjolras sped after him, but before he could strangle him Combeferre gave him his 'stop right there' look making Enjolras cool down. 

Marius was still not seeing it. 

\----------------

That night, Eponine and Combeferre had decided to consummate the relationship, which was a hard decision for Eponine since she was in love with Marius still, but hey, she needed to get laid. So that night she borrowed a skimpy little outfit from Musichetta and set up Azelma on a little play date with her new friend Feuilly. He had really taken a liking to her because she liked his origami and it was fun making stuff for her. Besides, she'd rather her hang around Feuilly than Grantaire and Courfeyrac (who were bad influences). 

They planned on her coming over at eight for a little pre-sex romancing to set the mood. So promptly at eight thirty, Eponine arrived late as usual. But she was forgiven once he opened the door and saw he in that tight sort of romper made of black leather that she must have oiled to make it that shiny. The neckline was a deep scoop with stripes of black leather crossing from one side to the other to make it alternate leather, skin, leather, skin. It was extremely arousing; Combeferre was having trouble not ripping her clothes off. 

"Hey sexy boy." She greeted in a low seductive tone. He struggled to come up with words; he just choked on silence giving Eponine a little smile as she clicked past in her heeled ankle boots that matched her outfit. "So what did you have planned for tonight?" 

He tried to answer, he really did, but he was afraid that if he opened his watering mouth he'd drool over her luscious wind-swept styled hair and dramatic smoky eye make-up. When he did start to reply he stuttered for a long time before entire words came.   
"Um I-I was uh thinking ma-aybe we could er w-watch a movie or something." He rubbed his neck nervously. Eponine smirked at him and sprawled out on the couch as if she was modeling. Letting out a breath to attempt to release his nerves he joined Eponine, his arm cautiously framing her shoulder while the other traced her leg slowly creeping to the inside of her tan thigh. For a while Eponine let him just touch her like that, it was nice to feel loved even if it wasn't by her first choice. 

"Are you gonna put in a movie?" She reminded him. Combeferre jolted to attention.

"Right!" He bounced toward the DVD player and popped in a disc for some steamy romance (not porn) film. Pressing play he backed up onto the couch as close to Eponine as possible, his hand wandering to her inner thigh again and his arm around her shoulders. Eponine shifted to take a look at him. 

"You seem tense. Here lie down and let me give you a message." Hesitating slightly he crawled to the floor face-down. He was tense, not just because Eponine's sex appeal frightened him but because he was thinking of Azelma. How he had slept with her first. How this would crush her that they were this serious. But her legs’ startling his back was a welcomed feeling. 

Ever-so softly she rubbed him, her pressure perfectly rising and falling like a crescendo-ing symphony. He bit his lip to keep a moan from escaping. "You like that?" She leaned down onto his body to whisper into his ear as if she knew he was on the verge of moaning. Her whisper was so warm that his shoulder met his ear in shock of the heat. Not needing to fight it anymore, he made a long drawn out noise of desperate appreciation to thank Eponine, who started to work her pelvis into the message. Soon the action shifted into flat out humping. 

Eponine murmured a hushed phrase into his ear again. "I'm so wet right now." Combeferre shuddered in reply; Eponine took that as a good sign. "Are you...." Her sexy tone trailed off in arousal. "Hard?" She didn't wait for an answer, just grabbed at his crotch, confirming her hypothesis. He yelped at her grip. Combeferre had to say something; Eponine couldn't do all the talking.

"Should we take this to the bedroom?" He breathed. He felt her weight leaving his body and heard her feet rushing to the stairs. Trying to be frisky, he chased after her. When he caught up to her, he grabbed her to spin her around. Her laugh was enthralling! She blocked off stairway, her legs parted and her forearms pressed against the surrounding walls with a flirty look on her face. A bright smile smeared across his face, he scooped her up in a way that her legs hugged his waist, before carrying her up the stairs. 

In his room, which was overflowing with books, he threw her on his bed and the consummating began.

\---------

Marius had been thinking a lot about what his friends had said about Enjolras and Grantaire's complex relationship, so much so he wanted to talk to Enjolras about it, which of course is a big no-no. No one ever tried to come to Enjolras and ask him about this, no one wanted to interfere, except maybe Jehan but they always stopped him. And the time Courfeyrac tried to pay Enjolras to date Grantaire. But no one knew Marius was going to do the unthinkable.

He set out to the Musain; Courfeyrac had told him Enjolras stays there late to work on homework and his social activist blog. He was hoping he'd be there tonight. The only issue was Marius didn't have a car, he couldn't ask for a ride either without being told not to go. His only option was taking the Bus. 

A big, bulky, 'Eco-Friendly' bus pulled up at the bus stop, where Marius stood alone, gripping the straps of his backpack like a kindergartener on his first day of school. As the door folded open Marius advanced inward, he dropped a few coins in the slot and took his seat. Right then the bus was mostly empty except for a homeless man sleeping in the back and a tired looking woman holding a crying baby. Marius, being the cutie he is, gave them both sweet smiles to say hello. 

At the next stop, only a frightening young man sauntered in. He wore a mean set of narrowed eyes and an angry scowl. Marius tried not to look at him, but he did notice a blade in his pocket and that he reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. Even though there where many seats available, he chose to plop right next to the now shaking Marius. 

"Hey pretty boy." He said charmingly. Marius kept looking out the window curled up in a secure ball but out of courtesy granted him a meek wave while he dug in his pocket for his rape whistle. "A cutie like you shouldn't be out here, alone in the dark, let me take you to my place." He put his arm around him making Marius attempt and fail to wiggle free.

"I'm going to see my friend, don't worry he's very big and scary and protective. Besides I'm not supposed to go to stranger’s houses." Marius said using up the little confidence he had remaining. 

"I'm Montparnasse; there now we're not strangers!" Marius remembered Eponine saying something about Montparnasse, but he didn't know what. "And your name sweetie?" He was inching closer and closer.

"Marius, but I still really can't go home with you. I can manage." He assured him. Montparnasse pouted trying to look as adorable as Marius did. The bus halted just shy of a block from the Musain, Marius shot up, ready to leave. "This is my stop." He tried to push past Montparnasse, but he stood strong, took his arm and gave him an offer Marius was too afraid to refuse.

"This is a scary part of town, baby. I'll walk with you, keep you safe." Montparnasse led Marius outside. The Musain was not in a shady part of town at all. It was safer than the Corinth by far and had a very neighborly environment. "So where we headed, lovely?" One of his arms coiled around Marius's lower back, the other was petting Marius's concerned face. 

"Um the uh Mu-Musain." He stuttered shyly. 

"Oh honey, are you nervous? Don't worry, I don't bite." He leaned in to whisper into Marius's ear "Unless you want me to." 

They continued to the Musain, Montparnasse touching Marius in ways he didn't like and calling him pet names that he would only be comfortable with if either Cosette or Jehan were calling him them. Montparnasse was trying to be a gentleman by holding the door open to the Musain. 

"Well thank you for walking with me." Marius was itching to get far away from that rat while Montparnasse wanted to get closer just as much. Abruptly, He pinned Marius against a wall, pressing himself against him with a wicked smile. 

"Don't thank me you tease! There's something you can do to repay me." Marius protested saying was straight and had a girlfriend and was a virgin and everything he could think of to get Montparnasse off of him. His vile hands where squeezing at Marius's ass as he grinded his crotch against him. 

"Get off me!" He cried. That's when Enjolras looked up from his laptop and saw Marius being harassed by Montparnasse. Marius's eyes where squinted shut, he couldn't look as Montparnasse publicly came onto him. All the sudden he felt Montparnasse jerk away and his blue eyes open. Enjolras had pulled Montparnasse off, punched him and was now barking threats at him. Marius was grateful but was wondering if his friends where here, if they would think Enjolras loved Montparnasse. There were subtle differences in the way he treated Grantaire as opposed to how he did Montparnasse, maybe the difference really was love. 

"If you ever touch him again, I will hunt you down and I will make you suffer!" He spat at before pushing him out the door. 

"Thank you so much Enjolras! You saved me!" He clung to Enjolras. "I was so scared; I mean he was even worse than when Grantaire gets drunk! I was afraid he was going to rape me!" 

"Well it's over now." He pried him off of himself. "Now, I have worked to do, I really can't be talking right now." He clasped his hands together and marched blankly towards his computer. Marius trailed behind him closely. 

"I actually came here to talk to you about something." He tried to scoot Enjolras's laptop away but he got a swat on the hand. Enjolras went back to feverishly typing even breaking a small sweat.

"Marius, I really am busy, couldn't you talk to Courfeyrac?" Marius shook his head causing an instant eye roll on Enjolras's part. 

"Please, it's about love!" He said wrongly thinking that would strike his interest. 

"There are much more important things in life, Marius. You mustn’t be spending all your time on trivial things such as romantic relationships. You could be devoting your life to higher calls like women's reproductive rights or legalizing Gay Marriage like I have." At that moment he was in fact setting up online petitions and blogging for both causes. Marius furrowed his brows taking a glance at the screen to see his work. 

"Didn't you just go on a date?" Marius giggled at his own wit, which made Enjolras even more annoyed with Marius's nonsense.

"That was a mistake caused by a moment of pointless insecurity, only a minor setback on the road to freeing the world." Enjolras's intensity wasn't fazing Marius like he thought it would, maybe because Marius was too obtuse to realize he was unwanted. 

"Well I really think we should talk." Marius persisted. 

"Please, Marius, I don't care about your love life, it was cute at first, but now it's just irritating." Then he thought about a little more. "Actually it was never cute." He harshly edited. Marius looked a little wounded by that but pushed forth.

"It's not about my love life! It's about yours!" Enjolras looked rigid and shocked and intrigued all at once. Although he'd regret wasting time chatting with Marius about his love life, he wanted to hear what he had to say because frankly, he wasn't aware he had a love life. 

"You have five minutes." He closed the lid of his laptop. 

"Wow! Really? Oh gosh, how do I begin? Um-uh-well..." 

"Four-minutes-fifty-seven- seconds." Crap he was really timing him. Marius took a deep breath before he began. The godly blonde uncapped a bottle of water and took a long drink.

"Ok, here it goes. Courfeyrac and the other guys were saying that you're in love with Grantaire. Is that true?" Enjolras's water sprayed out of his mouth coming close to wetting his laptop.

"In love?" He huffed baffled at this accusation. 

"That's I thought too! Well until they started explaining it to me." He sounded almost ashamed. Enjolras urged him to repeat their friends’ foolish reasoning with a wide eyed look. "They were telling me about how you always give Grantaire attention even though he's annoying and a brat and that if you didn't love him you'd just leave and give up on him, you wouldn't sit by him at lunch or pass notes with him at Jehan's poetry reads or let him bother you at all. You just don't understand or even know what your feelings are and that's what frustrates you about Grantaire so you beat on him and stuff." Enjolras was quite for a long time, you could almost see the wheels of his brilliant mind turning in new profound thoughts. Everything about Enjolras's silence made Marius shake. What was wrong? Was he going to erupt and take out his anger on the nearly tearful Marius? Without a word he gathered his things and strode with such force the cafe shook almost as much as Marius.

\------------

Feuilly had to wake up early the next day for work, so Azelma wasn't able to stay the night like they had originally planned. He drove her back to Combeferre's house at around 10:30 that night.  
"Thanks for having me over Feuilly! That was a lot of fun!" She gave him a hug even though they were sitting in the car. 

"Yeah, anytime, too bad you couldn't stay longer. I haven't had a girl spend the night in forever!" He teased her with his uncomfortable sex joke. She thanked him again before climbing out of the car. The night was cold and especially blustery, Azelma shivered as the icy breeze pierced her skin. The door seemed to be farther away than before. When she finally was greeted by the warmth of Combeferre's little house, she slipped off her shoes and sluggishly walked to her bedroom to collapse on the bed. 

She was halfway asleep when she heard the ricketing of Combeferre's mattress, one of sounds she engraved in her vivid memory of her night with Combeferre. At first she thought he was just tossing and turning more than usual, but he heard moaning. She remembered he was so quite in slumber that it was hardly believable that he was breathing; moaning was certainly not something he'd do in his sleep. Now she was concerned. Maybe if she got out of bed and collected her thoughts she would be able to sleep even with Combeferre's noisiness. She took a trip to the bathroom with its yellowy fluorescent lighting and dingy fake tiles. Taking a good look in the mirror, Eponine peaked in the door.

"Azelma? What're you doing here?" She was wearing Combeferre's tee-shirt and boxer. Nothing was more sickening. 

"I live here?" She didn't hide her immediate resent. 

"I just thought you'd be at Feuilly's." A sudden call came from the bedroom, sounding lazy but aroused. Eponine could help but smile "Looks like I'm need elsewhere." She blushed kissing her little sister's forehead with the same lips that had wrapped around Combeferre's- she couldn't even think about. As her sister skipped off into the dark bedroom, Azelma felt a tear fall that she'd been fighting since she saw Eponine in Combeferre's clothes. The bed cringed with her as Eponine pounced on the bed like the animal she was. Azelma could hear Eponine undress with a giggle.

Azelma whispered to herself at the same instant that Combeferre mumbled an identical sentence "I love you." They said in unison. Now she was bawling. Her face was soaked with tears, she was surprised they didn't hear her slam her door and scream relentlessly into her pillow. He loved Eponine! But Eponine was careless and just having him in the meantime while she tried to pursue Marius. That was the worst part, Combeferre was going to get hurt and she would die if Combeferre was hurt. If Eponine did love him fully without feelings for another, Azelma would be able to accept that, so long as she made her precious Combeferre happy. But she didn't love him. That was it! She knew going to Eponine was a mistake, she knew someone who wouldn't treat her like a child and betray her. 

Boiling with rage, she shoved clothes and the little possessions she had into a duffle bag, her eyes still shimmering with tears. This time no one would stop her from getting out her own personal version of hell: constantly alone with the love her life, who she had wronged and could never have, keeping her blaring thoughts of love silent. She was halfway out of her room, when she looked back, catching the glimmer of a blade on the dresser, she made a promise to Grantaire but not all promises can be kept. Now that she added the blade to her duffle bag, she started trotting down the stairs and out the door. Again, she looked back.

"God," She prayed quietly. "If you’re out there, tell Grantaire I'm sorry and tell Combeferre I love him and I always will. Even if he never loves me back." then she was gone, disappearing into the bleak night with the rain mingling on her youthful cheeks. At first she just ran, blindly, gasping for breath, for a miracle to bring her to her senses. A part of her wanted to find Combeferre chasing after her. She craved for him to cradle her again and bring her home to cuddle through the night, arms wrapping around her to comfort her and keep her from running away. But Combeferre didn't come for her. She wanted to be saved. By anyone; Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, hell she'd even follow their icy leader home. By now she was on the bus, sobbing, clinging to her duffle bag, no one paying any attention to the minor who was clearly running away from home. Recognizing the stop, she rushed out into the street. Without hesitation she knock on the door, knowing this would be the start of the worst mistake of her life, but why does it matter? There's no point living anymore. 

The door creaked open revealing a fashionable man with a sick grin that was better suited for a cartoon. 

"Azelma, welcome back." Montparnasse held his arms open and Azelma reluctantly fell into his possessive, dangerous embrace.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine and Combeferre talk about the best and worst lovers in the group, Azelma reunites with her favorite little person, Marius has never kissed anyone and we find out how Courfeyrac and Jehan met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I wrote in Gavroche's little brothers but I decided I just wanted Gavroche for this particular fic. Sorry.

Eponine woke up with Combeferre kissing her hand tenderly. She smiled dopily at the sweet gesture. "Morning." He whispered. It was so lovely to be held in someone’s arms again, no matter how meaningless. The only thing was he loved her and they were naked. What did it matter if she still pined for the love of a certain brunette who was clueless, so enraptured in his wistful romance that he didn't realize Eponine's love for him. 

"Morning." She gave him a peck lip-to-lip. Combeferre felt like he was just kissed by an angle, while Eponine didn't feel any electricity coursing through her body like he did. Eponine propped herself up on her bent elbow. "So, pillow talk?" 

Combeferre looked concerned. "I suck at pillow talk." He laughed at his own flaw, Eponine smiled weakly at his light laugh. 

"Not so much with the pillow? Well I'll teach you. Just be sweet and sentimental, but be sincere." She nuzzled against him taking in his sweet scent.

"I love when you kiss me and you make those little sounds." He reminisced happily his eyes fluttering shut.

"I love when you do that. When you close your eyes and it looks like your almost batting your eyelashes." Eponine traced her index finger over his eyelashes. "Do you ever wonder who’s the best in bed out of our friends?" Combeferre looked perplexed.

"Isn't pillow talk supposed to be about us? You know- intimate?" Combeferre held her a little closer. 

"Our it could just be..." She leaned in for an erotic whisper "sexy." Combeferre shuddered at the heat of her whisper, he felt himself growing slightly hard just at her voice. "So, who do you think is the best?" 

His initial thought was Musichetta, he hardly spoke to her since she was really on the outskirts of the group, mainly hanging around because of Eponine, Joly and Bossuet. But then he thought Courfeyrac who was also experienced and flirty, he got laid very often having a way with leading combinations of people of all gender in all amounts to his bed. He was probably sloppy though and he had been taking a break from one night stands since Marius moved in. Then he remembered his night with Azelma, there was no way he was going to answer Azelma. Courfeyrac seemed a safe choice. "Probably Courfeyrac." Eponine nodded in approval.

"I think that Joly is secretly amazing in bed, you know? Like he just goes crazy? Why else would Musichetta want him so bad?" Eponine had obviously thought about this before. "Who do you think is the worst?" 

Again Combeferre weighed the possibilities. Maybe if he said Azelma she'd never suspect anything happened. No, he shouldn't even consider her a sexual being. Bossuet was very unlucky, so chances are he isn't lucky in the bedroom either. But Bahorel was sort of a douche so he'd probably be a jerk and selfish in bed. Marius though is far too timid to do anything sexual, or be any good at it. Jehan might be too romantic to be acceptable as far as sex, but he’s probably better than Bahorel. "Probably Bahorel, since his an ass." Eponine couldn't help but laughing. 

"God, you're probably right. But I always thought if Enjolras ever had sex, it would be the one thing he's bad at. He's too high strung; he'd probably break off into a rant on immigration. He wouldn't be any fun, too controlling. Besides being completely gorgeous, smart and all that crap, I don't know why Grantaire wants to get in his pants so bad." Combeferre was dying of laughter; Eponine was spot on in her interpretation of how Enjolras would be in bed. 

He felt a little jealous when Eponine called him gorgeous. Since the time they became best friends at age five, he'd being living in Enjolras's shadow. Enjolras was always the brave leader with the great ideas and the bold voice that ranted inspirational speeches; he had always been the one with angelic good looks and piercing blue eyes. Of course Combeferre was very attractive as well and had lovely, mellow, mossy green eyes that were always focused on the future and the well-being of the world. His role as Enjolras sidekick and guide wasn't quite as glamorous as being the passionate leader, but it was where he belonged. Enjolras was certainly intelligent but he needed Combeferre to keep him grounded and on track. 

Eponine swung her legs over the bed to sit up and hop off the bed. "Don't leave!" He whined. She gave him a sass smirk before putting clothes on. "Don't get dressed!" He carried on. With a giggle she stuck her tongue out. 

"I have to take 'Zelma shopping for the gift exchange tonight at the party." Since their circle of friends was so large, getting gifts for everyone would be far too pricy, so they drew names around thanksgiving. Marius, Azelma and Cosette (who wasn't a part of the group but was invited to come with Marius) had missed drawing names so Cosette was shopping for Azelma, Azelma was assigned Marius and he was to get a gift for his girlfriend. Combeferre groaned. 

"Azelma!" Eponine rattled on the door loudly. "'Zelma! Get your ass out of bed!" She sternly hollered. Now her patience was out, she just wanted to get the shopping over with. She swung the door open "Azelma Thenardier! Time to g-" Azelma wasn't in her room. "o" She finished her broken phrase. She made a little confused face and slowly slinked into the hall, her eyes peeled for any sign of Azelma. "'Zel?" She called into the silence, her voice carried well in the emptiness of the house. She was beginning to think her exchange with Azelma in the bathroom was an orgasm induced delusion of some sort. That led her to dial up Feuilly. 

Damn it! She got his machine. Wondering around the house she left a laid back message after 'the tone'. Who says the tone? "Hey Feuilly, I was just wondering' if 'Zelma's at your place. I can't find her anywhere. Well call me back, see you Feu." She hung up with a sigh. Where could that girl be? 

Just than Combeferre was headed down the stairs in his green flannel pants and grey muscle shirt covered by deep purple plush robe that only he could pull off. "Can't find the Pixie?" He gave her a long satisfying hug. Her reaction wasn't something he'd expected. Immediately she began to well up. 

"Where could she have gone?" She choked out letting herself cry openly. Combeferre tried to hold her closer but she broke the embrace to face away from him. "I thought we had lost her when she ran out on Mom and Dad. No doubt she's gone to the same place as last time. God! She's throwing her life away! Again! She's going to die, isn't she Combeferre?" She hid her face. He put a hand on her shoulder and a comforting kiss on her cheek. 

"Of course not! We're going to go get her." He assured her. "And she's going to come home and be safe and we'll find out exactly why she ran out on us. When we get her back you're going to hold her and scold her for leaving but say how glad you are that she's back. She's coming home; I won't let it be any other way, not if it makes you feel like this." Eponine looked at him. He'd never seen her dark, lifeless eyes look so helpless before.

"And you?" She wondered plainly. "What will you do when we get her out of there?" Combeferre broke his gaze, harshly looking away tears gathering in his eyes. He cared for Azelma more than Eponine knew, but could he say that? Could he define her as a friend that he dearly loved, but now feared after their sexual encounter? Although their relationship had taken a fall, he still cared for her. To be honest he wanted to hold her and coo whimpering words of affection to her until the pain of her being missing stopped burning. But he chose to say something that clue to him not being overly attached to her.

"I will stay quiet and let you two do whatever it is sister's do. If you let me, I would like to take notes so I know how to handle a young woman like Azelma if she ever runs away again when you're not around." He was pensive and sounded like a true philosopher in his delivery. Still Eponine didn't seem fully satisfied, but she grabbed him into her mournful embrace anyways. 

 

\-----------

Azelma felt the thin sheet rustling against her barely clothed body, warmed by the heat of Montparnasse holding her against his nearly nude body. Montparnasse was shifting his position to swing his leg around her. Light was peeking through the dingy blinds, flooding the room with brightness that Azelma wished would soak into her heart and fill her with the happiness she longed for. Hesitantly, she sat up in bed curling her knees to her chest self-consciously. He was looking at her like that again, like she was a piece of meat, it was disgusting! 

"Morning, pretty lady." He adjusted himself to kiss her neck. Each kiss stung. Each kiss felt wrong. She let him continue and eventually work her onto her back still sucking on her neck but now startling her. What was the point in fighting? He'd already marked her as his territory; he'd already stolen her virginity and her dignity. All she was now was his play thing to which he could do anything to, to which he could lash out on shamelessly, to which he could kill if he really wanted to, she wouldn't put up fight. When she came to Montparnasse's new apartment, her intentions were to stay there until he cast her aside, killed her, or Combeferre came to her. Montparnasse was starting to take off his clothes, Azelma didn't like where this was going. Soft sounds buzzed in her mouth in protest. 

"Not right now." She tried to push him away but he was to strong. Thankfully his phone buzzed and he jumped to the sound of his alarm. 

"God dammit!" He growled. "I have to go to fucking work!" In his fit of rage he knocked over the lamp successfully shattering the bulb and denting the shade. "Great! Now I have to get a new lamp!" He stormed off snatching an outfit from his closet. 

Azelma shot straight up when he left, gasping in relief. He would be gone for at least eight hours; Combeferre would rescue her in no more than six according to her predictions. As soon as she heard him shout a lazy good-bye, she scurried to the outdated kitchen. The Fruit-Loops were calling her name! Milk with cereal wasn't Azelma's thing so she nibbled at dry loops on his tattered leather couch. Montparnasse didn't have a very nice apartment by any standard, but he had every channel known to man, including Netflix’s, On Demand and a slew of DVDs that consisted of comedies, horror films, porn, all ten seasons of Friends and a strangely large collection of romantic comedies. She was a sucker for Friends so she popped in a random season and enjoyed the humor of TV's best show. 

After the clap of the third episode’s theme song, a knock at the door interrupted her Friends bliss. Even though she was wearing the shortest shorts ever made and a skimpy tank, she trudged groggily to the door. Readying her sassy annoyed glare she ripped the door open. A young boy in what appeared to be a boy-scout uniform stood innocently before her. The little boy she called her brother. "Gavroche!" She breathed, pouncing him with an adoring hug. Finally releasing, Gavroche looked smug. 

"Looks like I can't scam you into buying popcorn that'll never show up." He joked. 

"I'm so happy to see you! Come in, Come in!" She pulled him in. The poor boy was a mess. His hair was shaggy and overgrown and he smelled.

"You must be starving! Here, let's go to the kitchen." Stomach growling, he trailed behind her traveling to the kitchen. 

"Make me a sandwich woman!" Gavorache demanded in a good-natured tease. Azelma stuck her tongue out playfully before gathering the peanut butter and jelly. Seeing that he was too hungry to wait for the sandwich to be prepared, Azelma tore open a bag of Cheetos letting him dig in savagely. The entire bag had been devoured before the sandwiches were ready. Gavroche let out an obnoxious burp.

"Top that!" He laughed.

"Where's 'Ponine? Thought you were goin' to live with 'er af'er you got away from that ass Montparnasse." Gavroche had a bad habit of cussing which got him in trouble at home. For every time he swore, a shiny new bruise would be stamped onto his skin as a badge of honor. Azelma didn't like him cussing, but it was true Montparnasse was an ass. 

"I did. But things happened and now I'm back where I began." She nervously fiddled with a damp towel she had just wiped the counter with, praying that they wouldn't ask for her to elaborate. Gavroche looked interested but knew better than to pry in something that Azelma looked uncomfortable with discussing. 

"That's too bad, would be nice to get the 'ole Thenardier gang together again." Gavroche said shoving a hunk of sandwich in his mouth. 

Gavroche turned around to see Friends playing on the TV. 

"Hey, Friends!" He bounced off to the living room. "I love this show!" Gavroche plopped down on the couch "When I got stuck in that gay-ass orphanage, one of the older kids stole all ten seasons and we watched an episode every night." Azelma wasn't sure if she liked him using gay as an insult, what if did that in front of her friends? Courfeyrac and Grantaire, who are actually bi, wouldn't mind because he's young and ignorant, but Jehan might get emotional. Especially because his sexuality has been troubling him lately. Even though the icy leader was probably asexual, as Grantaire had said before and after his date with Jehan, he would probably blow up into an activist rant in attempts to convert Gavroche into one of them. In fact, Gavroche might like being a part of their group, and they'd probably like him. Why was she even thinking about this? She was never going to see her friends again. Not even Combeferre.

Gavroche and Azelma never felt like they were a family with their parents, but otherwise they always felt the tight sibling bond. It must be nice to feel safe and loved, she was safe once, safe with Combeferre. She remembered how it felt the first time he touched her in the Musain, after Joly stuck his stuffy nose into her business. It was the first time a man had laid hands on her after the incident that she didn't jump or shudder or even scream. Even when Grantaire and she had become friends, it was sometimes difficult to except his touch. She missed her friends, even if she was on the outside of the group; someone had to miss her too.

\---------

It was a quite morning at Courfeyrac's dorm, no classes today, it was Christmas eve. Courfeyrac woke up to snow fluttering to the already white ground. Grantaire was rummaging through his clothing bin for his festive Santa hat. By the newly discarded cans of alcohol, Courfeyrac could tell Grantaire was drunk already. Every morning Marius was woken by Courfeyrac clumsily leaping from his bed, this morning was no exception. Marius sat up to let out a kitten-like yawn and crawl out of bed.   
"Where were you last night?" Marius asked Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac was hungry for a poke last night, so he snuck out to search for a steamy one night stand. A habit he had broken temporarily when Marius came along.

"Let's just say, I'm back in the game." Grantaire congratulated him with a slap on his wondrous round ass. Marius didn't look quite as comfortable with this conversation. Having a super-hot roommate proved to be very difficult, all though he was planning on asking Jehan out tonight, he also wanted to get in Marius's pants. Grantaire wasn't into Marius when he was sober, but he was easy prey when Grantaire was drunk enough. Thankfully Marius was obtuse enough not to notice Courfeyrac starring when he changed shirts. Courfeyrac wanted Marius as friend. That was it. Marius was straight and he shouldn't get all up in his business, he should respect is sexuality. Grantaire on the other hand, had no respect for anyone's sexuality. 

"Hey Marius," Grantaire covered his mop of hair in his tacky Santa hat. "Why don't you come sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Chirstmas?" He sneered. Courfeyrac was shocked when Marius crawled onto Grantaire's lap, willingly cuddling up next to him. Grantaire looked pleased with himself. 

"I want my first kiss." He half whined. With a little shrug Grantaire simply said, 

"Ok." He leaned in for a sloppy smooch. Marius screamed, curling into a ball before his lips met his. Courfeyrac tore them apart urgently; Marius clung to him, which was a nice reward for his rescue. 

"Not from you!" Marius looked absolutely terrified. "From Cosette." His voice turned dreamy as he started spinning around. 

"Wait a second!" Grantaire urged. "You've been in totally stupid puppy-love with this chick since you met her and you haven't kissed her?" 

Marius stopped his twirling abruptly. "I haven't kissed anyone!" He resumed his dopey little dance. That's when Grantaire started laughing, like cracking up almost peeing himself laughing. 

"Did you here that Courf? The Puppy hasn't kissed anyone! This kid, who is just as obsessed with dumb-ass romance as Jehan, hasn't even kissed someone! And he's hot! And he's dating someone hot!" He fell over cracking up. "Oh my God! This is rich!" He carried on and on until Marius looked tearful. 

"You don't have to make fun of me!" He retreated sadly to his bed. That didn't stop him though, Grantaire teased and teased like he did when he first heard about Enjolras's celibacy. Grantaire thought it was hilarious that he spent his time fighting for gay people to get married when he had no interest in relationships or sex at all, when he actually thought of them as a waste of time. But when he laughed at Enjolras, he didn't cry or mope, he got angry and called him out for being a drunken bastard and band him from meetings for the rest of the week. 

Seeing that Grantaire wasn't letting up, Courfeyrac went to comfort Marius. "Don't listen to him; he's just bitter because Enjolras would kill him if he tried to kiss him." Marius smiled a bit at that remark. "It's probably good you've held it off, Cosette doesn't seem like a very forward girl. She probably really appreciates you taking it slow." 

"You think?" He said hopefully.

"Hell yeah!" Marius covered his ears at the 'no-no word'. Courfeyrac humored him and corrected his language "I mean yeah, I think she does."

"Thanks Courf. You know, I think you're my best friend." 

"Thanks bro, I'd say the same if I wasn't stuck with that idiot since seventh grade." He pointed at Grantaire who was still howling with hysterical laughter.

\------

Azelma was in the kitchen making more food for the still famished boy. "Alright, Mac N Cheese- ready!" She scooped heaping ladle-fulls of macaroni into each of their bowls.

Just then Azelma froze, the door opened, Montparnasse was home. "Get in the closet." She whispered harshly. Gavroche didn't ask any questions, he hurried into the closet and quietly shut the door. Just before Montparnasse stomped in to the kitchen, Azelma took a look around to make sure there was no Gavroche evidence?

"Who're you talking to?" He snarled, Azelma needed to fashion a lie and fast. 

"No one, I was sneezing." That seemed like some excuse Rachel from Friends would fabricate, God she watched too much of that show today. 

"Who're you cooking for?" He was clearly on the verge of one of his episodes. 

"Me and you, of course." She was trying to hold her own in this conversation but her confidence was fading fast. Montparnasse stumbled onto the stool to slurp up some Mac N Cheese. He noticed the TV was on, even that annoyed him. Sneaking out her brother was going to be impossible and just telling him about him being here was going to get someone shot. 

"Someone's here. You had someone over. Who is the little punk? I'm going to kill him." He clenched his fists, searching for her guest. 

"Please, Montparnasse," She grabbed his shoulder "Settle down." 

"You don't tell me what to do, bitch!" He shoved her to the ground. Wincing from the pain, she struggled to her feet. Montparnasse was making his way to the bedroom. 

"Can we just talk about this?" She chased after him. Not wasting anytime, Montparnasse tore through the bedroom closet, fortunately the boy was hidden in the kitchen closet. He threw the covers off the bed. 

"Did you have sex with him? Did you whore around while I was gone? You were such a prude just a couple weeks ago! When did you become such a dumb slut? Huh? Why are such a fucking stupid skank?" He scowled hurling his fist at her face. She was in agonizing pain that knocked her to the ground gasping for breath, shaking. 

"No, I'm not a slut, you're the only man I have had sex with, please stop this Montparnasse! Let me show you how much I love you!" She lied about loving him and him being her only but she caressed his body trying to trick him into bed. He shook her off forcefully. Now he was headed for the kitchen. Desperation was setting in, what was she supposed to do? This could be the end of her brother. 

"Where the fuck is he? Huh? Tell me where he is or I'll kill you, bitch!" Her heart rate was speeding up and her palms were getting sweaty, what was her next move? But Gavroche made her decision for her; he flew from the closet and jumped onto Montparnasse's back. His fists collided with Montparnasse's furious face. 

"Don't you dare talk to my sister like that! Don't yell at her, don't touch her, don't even fucking look at her!" Gavroche hollered. 

"Get the fuck off of me you little shit!" He thrashed him to the floor. Gavroche landed on his bottom, which was better than his head by far, but if the fall didn't kill him, Montparnasse will. He cornered his next victim, clenching his jaw, his nostrils flaring as the heavily breathed in ready to attack. Azelma stood in front of the sink, her eyes squinted shut. This was it, she was going to die, her brother was going to die, and her baby was going to die. She let out one last blood curdling scream.

Out of nowhere Montparnasse was tackled to the floor and brutally attacked. Azelma's eyes fluttered open, there he was, Combeferre, saving the day. She looked at him, his rusty brown hair and green eyes behind the most handsome glasses. How much more perfect could a human be? That's when Eponine ruined it. She shuffled in to cheer on Combeferre. It wasn't that she hated her sister, she only hated that she was Combeferre's girlfriend. "You don't touch her!" He was so red in the face that he was hardly recognizable. 

When his job was done Eponine embraced him saying words like 'my hero!' and 'this is the best Christmas present ever!' it made Azelma sick. 

"My boy!" She bent over to give him a hug and kiss. Gavroche staggered to his feet looking woozy, Azelma went to serve as a crutch. A crutch wasn't enough so Combeferre swooped in.

"Here, I've got him." He cradled him. It reminded her of the time he had carried her into the house the first time she wanted to leave. He was so nurturing and gentle with Gavroche, he would make a great father. It gave Azelma the inclination that Combeferre was thrust into her life for two purposes; to be her love and a father to her child. One day, no matter how long it took, she would have him as her husband and her child's father. 

Eponine came over surprising her with a hug. The sudden touch frightened the shaken girl. "Sorry I shouldn't have done that, you've just been through a traumatic experience. I'm just so glad you're alright." The two stayed hugging for a long time; suddenly neither of the girls could hold in their emotions, tears soaked their hug. "What did I do wrong? Why did you go?" Eponine sobbed hardly audible. 

"Don't worry about it 'Ponine, don't worry about it." She wasn't crying for the same reason, she was crying for her unrequited love, for the reason she ran out. 

They loaded up into the car, Combeferre offered to house Gavroche as long as they need and with that they drove into the swirling snow to Combeferre's little house just outside of campus. Azelma felt like she was being babysat more than ever with her little brother being invited to stay with Combeferre too. 

What a day. Why didn't she fight to stay with Montparnasse? She knew why, at time like this, where her world was crumbling to pieces and everything was changing, she need someone like Combeferre, steady, sure, with a way of talking about the universe that made her not want to sink into the depths of hell instead of braving the world. Everything was spinning out of control and Combeferre stood still, everything was burning up and Combeferre was un-singed, everything was broken and Combeferre was in mint condition, everything was foggy and Combeferre was clear, everything was bringing her to tears and Combeferre kept her hope alive. He kept her alive.

\-----------

Jehan had been baking all day. He was up to his elbows in flour and he was sure he got some in his nose. Baking was one of Jehan's strengths, along with writing, learning new languages, playing flute, braiding, gardening, playing piano, painting fingernails, knitting, sewing, couponing and of course getting his way. You could say Jehan was a multi-talented guy. There were a batch of his signature crème puffs neatly arranged on a tray with sugar cookies, chocolate covered pretzels, caramels, lemon bars, peanut-butter kiss cookies, krumkake, snicker doodles, gingersnaps, and Courfeyrac's personal favorite, madeleines. Truth was, he was just as gaga for Courfeyrac as Courfeyrac was for him, but he was unbelievably shy when it came to Courfeyrac, even though he was fully aware his feelings were returned. 

He was singing a little song about love being in the air when there was knocking at the door. Company? Already? The party wasn't for hours, who could be showing up so early. Shrugging to no one, he twirled towards the door still humming the tune. He opened it to see the most dashing brunette standing with a bouquet of flowers and an embarrassed smile. Courfeyrac. 

"Hey." Courfeyac was never nervous, he was fun and flirty and naughty. Jehan was suddenly aware how ridiculous he must look covered in flour, his hair blown every which way in his half apron. Smoothing his hair was his first step to making himself decent. 

"Hi." He tried not to blush, but Courfeyrac's wild tangles of hair were overwhelming. 

"These are for you," he extended his arm offering him the flowers; Jehan took in their scent as an excuse to let out a shudder. "You know, like a host gift." Jehan replaced the flowers in his entry way table's vase with his new ones. He tossed the old ones aside. "I just came by to see if you needed help setting up." 

"That's really nice of you, Courf, but I'm all ready. But you're welcome to stay, I made madeleines." He tempted, not that Courfeyrac needed a bribe for some quality time with Jehan. He eagerly stepped inside to follow Jehan to the kitchen. "It's sort of a mess in here, sorry about that." 

"Don't apologize!" He exclaimed. "Whatever you have to do to make these amazing Madeleines!" He chewed on the fluffy dessert. Jehan liked receiving compliments, especially from the boy he'd been crushing on since they met. 

They meet through mutual friends you could say, Combeferre and Enjolras were friends with Jehan for most of high school and toed him around in college, especially the first weeks. Courfeyrac went into college with his two best friends (Grantaire and Eponine) as well. They hung around each other and basically sat back making fun of all the pretentious, icy bastards sauntering about. The two groups were complete opposites, the leader of the first, Enjolras, was obsessed with freeing the world and justice. He worked too hard and although an eloquent speaker, he was so driven that he could do terrible things. On the other hand, the leader of the second group, (who was less formally the leader) Courfeyrac, was laid back, warm and a very sexually active being. The side-kicks of both groups- Grantaire and Combeferre- were nothing alike either. Combeferre was as tall as he was smart, with a vast philosophical mind that always kept Enjolras grounded, or at least tried to. Grantaire wasn't the brightest bulb in the tanning bed nor was he un-averagely lanky; his mind was a whirling pit full of cynical thoughts and his rants that were in no way philosophical. Never did he try to keep Courfeyrac in line, he was always daring him and doing dumb young people shit with him, if anything he did the opposite. The two feminine ones of each gang were as different as they came. Jehan was poetic and lived in his day dreams. He was a good boy who didn't cuss too much or drink or smoke or sleep around. But Eponine was tough as nails and a tad skanky. She was in no way a good girl. But somehow the groups found a way to create Les Amis.

Courfeyrac made the first connection to the second group. He had made the mistake of trying to pick up Enjolras. When he spotted the elegantly beautiful man across the cafeteria, he made it his day's task to get in his pants. He swaggered his flawless ass over to Enjolras who was with Combeferre and feverishly scribbling down ideas for future rallies. "Hey." Simplicity was key in a pick up like this. He leaned seductively against their table. Blue eyes pierced into Courfeyrac's in immediate irritation. He continued scrawling on a napkin. "I'm Courfeyrac." 

"Enjolras." If Courfeyrac had known Enjolras he'd take his bark as a sign that Enjolras was in one of his moods where he didn't want to be disturbed. But our bow-tie wearing little flirt was unaware of Enjolras's temperament. 

"Enjolras, that's a sexy name you've got there." He started getting closer; Enjolras wasn't giving him anything to work with. Combeferre was enjoying the show, clearly holding in giggles. His best friend was being flirted with. "You seem like you've been working too hard." He went behind Enjolras and started messaging his shoulders. Courfeyrac was quickly getting on Enjolras's nerves, but just as fast he was making Combeferre's day. "Maybe you should take a break. I could help you relieve all that stress." He whispered into his reddening ear. Flirting and being flirted with were things Enjolras didn't tolerate, he sprang to his feet to face Courfeyrac, fuming. 

"I do not have the time to have coitus with you, nor do I care to. My focus today is reserved strictly for freeing the victims of human trafficking." He spat. "Do you even care about human trafficking?" Courfeyrac was taken aback. He called him out and was assertive but the most interesting thing is that he too had a deep passion for ending human trafficking.

"Yeah, it's all I ever think about." His voice was shaky. Enjolras just narrowed his eyes.

"You're probably one of those vile males who wishes he could take innocent women as his sex slaves! Oh you’re just the type!" He was cracking into his fire breathing dragon side. 

"No, I'm not like that." Courfeyrac explained his position on the topic and then the two clicked. He was appointed third in command before he even brought his lunch over. 

Jehan met him the next day. Jehan had his head in the clouds wistfully dreaming of riding his bike with some imaginary boy that randomly popped into his head. He wore a bow tie and plaid button-ups. How lovely were his kind brown eyes? And his curly black hair drove him mad! His voice was silky and smoothed, it sounded like it belonged to a singer or a performer of some sort. That would be just so- before he could finish his thought, he felt a latte ramming into him below his chest. Someone had run into him carelessly. Thankfully the boy was apologetic and dabbed a napkin against the spill.

"I'm so sorry!" He began; his voice would have been just as wonderful as the dream boy's if he wasn't so frantic to make it up to him. 

"Oh don't feel bad, Sweetheart!" He stroked his shoulder sweetly. "It was an accident! Besides I wasn't-" All of the sudden the kind gentleman dabbing at his sweater looked up at him, their eyes met. It was the magical moment he had always dreamed of. He could hear in his mind the ringing of a somewhat familiar melody that was four descending sixteenth notes on possibly a flute. Everything about the man was like the boy he had created in his mind but a million times better, he was real. "Paying attention." he continued softly. 

"My name is Courfeyrac." He was wide eyed, happy but too stunned to smile. 

"And mine's Jehan." His eyes fluttered in his adorable bliss. 

"Jehan!" He was so excited just to say it; he wanted to say something, something important that they'd remember. But nothing came to him, he looked away, embarrassed. "I don't know what to say." Jehan giggled hushedly, now Jehan wanted to say something cute like that, something poetic. But he just ended up with something cheesy. 

"Then make no sound." For another grand moment the two stared at each other. "Nice meeting you, Courfeyrac." It was a welcomed surprise that they both planned on sitting with Enjolras and Combeferre. But after the initial attraction, Courfeyrac friend-zoned Jehan firmly. Lately, Courfeyrac had been regretting that decision. 

Now Courfeyrac was sitting in his kitchen snacking on his Madeleines while he tuned his guitar. Even that was enough for Jehan. His presence warmed Jehan and gave him butterflies that he should be over by now. Courfeyrac was singing now. Oh god, Jehan needed to sit down, cross his legs and fast!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love you all! PLEASE GIVE ME KUDOS!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan throws a lovely little Christmas Party, Marius gives and receives surprising gifts, Courfeyrac (and Enjolras) sing, Grantaire's night sucks for a while but it gets much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I was suddenly inspired to post a chapter by a very sweet comment by Xavier! This chapter is for you! (:  
> This chapter ended up being very long because I sort of wanted this plot point to land in chapter ten but that Azelma distracted me from what's really important, E/R. But I promise it's not a boring chapter, there are a lot of those nice fluffy and silly moments that fit so well with this wonderful group of friends.

Jehan had a lovely afterenoon singing with Courfeyrac before the first few guests arrived. Joly, linking arms with his boyfriend and best girl Musichetta, were the first at the door.

"Jehan! You're house looks amazing! I love what you've done with your Christmas decor!" Joly said enthusiastically wrapping Jehan in his arms. Jehan offered the group cookies and other treats as they made their way to the living room. Jehan had one of the smallest houses, not including the friends who live in dorms, but it was also the coziest with flowers and quilts everywhere. Musichetta plopped down on the couch with her two friends at her sides. The night's plans included eating Jehan's baking, exchanging gifts and watching movies. Fondue was canceled in favor of making Madeleines for Courfeyrac instead. Movies were difficult for the group to watch, not because they were antsy and didn't like to sit still for too long but because no one could agree on what movie to watch and everyone wanted to sit by everyone, so usually they ended up on a pile on the floor. 

Feuilly came with his roommate Bahorel who was ready to party. Jehan was never a huge fan of Bahorel's yelling and punching but he dealt with it because they were friends by default. Next Cosette showed up holding Marius's hand.

"Hi!" She latched onto Jehan hugging him like the old friends they were. Marius smiled awkwardly waiting for the light if his world to return to him. To be honest, Marius wasn't entirely comfortable with Cosette loving Jehan so much, even if it was strictly friendly.

Soon enough everyone had arrived except Eponine, Azelma and Combeferre. The group was chewing the endless supply of sweets Jehan had slaved over, except Enjolras who never liked indulging in high-calorie snacks. Grantaire was trying to force a lemon bar down Enjolras's throat only to be thrown from the couch. There was a knock at the door. The cute little host scampered to the door, he was eager to greet the remainder of his un-arrived guests with a warm holiday hug. When he swung the door open he saw twice as much as he bargained for, not that Jehan minded. Along with Eponine in her tight military green dress, Azelma sporting a flowing, purple knee-length dress and Combeferre who looked taller than ever, there was a little blonde boy dressed in raggedy clothes. "Don't you all clean up nice?" He beamed. Jehan was great with kids younger than Gavroche but otherwise boys didn't seem to like him, they thought he was strange and were afraid of him. "Who is this?" He crouched down slightly to level with Gavroche.

"Seriously, I'm not four." He pushed past.

"That's Gavroche. Is that alright that he celebrates with us?" Eponine chimed in. 

"The more the merrier!" He cheered, leading them into the living area. 

As mentioned before watching movies was a big production for the friends. They had to pick a movie first, that alone could destroy their fragile balance. Everyone wanted something different. Marius was insistent on watching a romantic comedy, Courfeyrac begged for a musical, Bahorel wanted to find some Christmas flick that not only has jam-packed with fist-fights and car chases but also had a kick-ass, verging on pornographic sex scene, Enjolras wouldn't watch anything without political, historical or revolutionary themes, Joly would have liked to have just watched Hot Rod and Grantaire just wanted to sit with Enjolras.

"What about Scrooged?" Feuilly asked going through Jehan's DVDs and whatever movies the group brought along. 

"No singing, no Courf!" Courfeyrac crossed his arms sticking his nose in the air. 

"You are the anti-Christ Courfeyrac!" Grantaire threw a pillow at his best friend. "Srooged is frickening awesome!" 

"Yeah Courf! You suck demon dick!" Bahorel hurtled a second pillow at him with a little more force than Grantaire but he was definitely holding back. 

"Careful guys!" Jehan rushed to assess the damage. "You're going to hurt my Cou- I mean pillows!" He recovered without any grace. Bahorel and Grantaire laughed as Jehan's pretty face filled with color and embarrassment. "I meant my pillows!" He repeated. Neither let up. "Ugh! Idiots!"

"Ooo Charlie Brown Christmas! You love Charlie Brown Christmas, Bossuet!" Joly enthused showing him the DVD. Bossuet smiled stupidly and took this opportunity to kiss Joly's cheek quickly. 

"Bossuet likes Charlie Brown?" Grantaire smirks. "Surprise, surprise." Bossuet smacked his arm lightly.

"A bald hero is inspirational, Grantaire. Especially one who went bald earlier than I did." Bossuet explained his love for the little block-head.

"Unless Lucy hooks-up with the blanket kid, I'm not suffering through that shit." Bahorel was promptly beaten with a pillow by the last victim. 

"Lucy and Linus are brother and sister! Bahorel, you're a perv!" Eponine said nearly reaching out to cover Gavroche's ears but then remembering he's a Thenardier. Gavroche stood up from his post on the floor to check out the movies. 

"Found the perfect movie." Gavroche announced after grabbing his first movie. "It's got comedy and romance for the Puppy over there, a little bit of singing for the fruity bow-tie guy, some girl in a shower for the violent one, some sort of revolution type thing for that prick by the drunk guy and the germ-a-phobe will like it enough if he's into Hot Rod." Enjolras looked aggravated by being called a prick which gave Grantaire a snicker. Courfeyrac wasn't offended by being called fruity; it just surprised him a bit. Marius was confused, why did everyone think he was a puppy? 

"What movie is it?" Enjolras said from between his teeth. 

"Elf, the Will Ferrell Christmas spectacular!" Gavroche showcases the DVD case with Will Ferrell in his yellow tights and Green tunic with a smile on his cheery face. "I know, I know, I'm good." He tossed it to Combeferre. "Pop it in Clark Kent." 

"Combeferre." 

"Gesundheit." He said pretending sassily he thought he was sneezing. Grantaire hadn't stopped laughing.

"I love this kid!" Grantaire bellowed in the heat of a laughter fit. A disapproving look was shot at him from Enjolras, even though Gavroche was quippy, the boys, aside from Enjolras already liked the kid. Frankly, they were thankful that Gavroche found an acceptable movie for the group to ball up and enjoy. 

Everyone gathered on the floor, it wasn't the first time they had watched a movie together, but it was with the new editions. They didn't expect situating to be such a production. Courfeyrac had to sit by Eponine to tear the movie apart. But Eponine, since she was dating Combeferre, was obligated to cuddle with him. Musichetta always sat in between Joly's legs and Joly always wanted to be in between Bossuet's in a sort of train. Bahorel couldn't sit through movie if he wasn't staring down Musichetta's dress at her impressive (100% natural) breasts. If Combeferre wasn't near Enjolras to listen to him ranting about something political related to the film, Enjolras would probably murder Grantaire who made it his goal to annoy Enjolras with sexual jokes and attempts to cuddle. Jehan and Cosette wanted to braid each other’s hair during the film but Cosette still had to be close enough to hold Marius's hand and give him romantic attention sporadically. Courfeyrac wanted to be able to whisper into Jehan's ear like he did at the group date, maybe less crassly and more sentimental and romantic. Eponine still needed to be able to blow off Combeferre to talk with Marius and Azelma wanted to be able to take advantage of the opportunity to say something witty to Combeferre. Musichetta always comforted Jehan during the sad parts. The best singers of the group, Feuilly and Courfeyrac always had to be next to each other for when there was a duet opportunity. Gavroche desired to be close to Azelma but even nearer to Grantaire and Enjolras to agrivate the godly man and eat up the laughter of his drunken companion.

 

Just to be a brat, Grantaire rested his head against Enjolras's masculine shoulder, shockingly; Enjolras's didn't shake him away. When the movie was over, it was present time. Combeferre, Eponine and Azelma had gone out and bought Gavroche three presents because Combeferre insisted that 'This kid deserve an awesome Christmas! I mean look at this face! How can you not throw money and stuff at this face?' 

"Who's going to go first?" Jehan wrangled them into a circle. 

"Ooh! I want to!" Eponine waved her hand in the air. Everyone agreed silently, she grabbed her present from the middle where they piled them. "This is from me to Bahorel." She handed it to an eager Bahorel. He tore through the wrappings, discarded the top of the box and dug through the box for his gift. His eyes light up when he so his gift. It was a baseball cap in support for his favorite team the Cleveland Indians (he's native to Cleveland) with cup holders on the side that allows the wearer to slurp down the drink of choice threw a straw connected to the holders. 

"So beautiful." His voice quivered in awe. Without warning he lunged out to give Eponine an unexpected hug. "I love you 'Ponine!" He said nuzzling against her breasts. "To repay you, I'm taking you to the next party I go to and you get to watch me wear it and kick ass- but you do that anyway." Combeferre told Bahorel that was enough and pried him off of Eponine. "Sorry 'Ferre. Ok, this," He snagged his gift from the pile. "is for the hottest girl I know- Musichetta!" He shoved the bag in her face. 

"Thanks baby." She accepted the gift from her friend. Setting it in her lap, she picked out the tissues he wadded up instead of actual tissue paper. Marius averted his eyes when Musichetta revealed a lacey black and red push-up bra and thong combo. "Bahorel!" She said with a surprisingly grateful demeanor. "This is great! How'd you know my cup size?" Bahorel smirked.

"I have cup-size estimation down to a science." He was a little too satisfied with himself. Musichetta gave him her flirty eyes making it clear they were going to have a Christmas Eve hook-up. Shaking out of their sexual tension trance, Musichetta reached for her gift for Combeferre. With a nod he took the present and unwrapped the shiny red box calmly. He found a thick book that looked old and worn. 

"You're kidding right?" Combeferre gasped. It was a first edition of his favorite fiction novel valued in the thousands. He hardly spoke with Musichetta and she was splurging on old books for him. 

"Not even a little. I found it at a garage sale with Courf, he said you loved that book and the owners clearly didn't know it was a first edition and worth a crap-ton, so we got it for like five bucks." She looked just as proud of herself as Bahorel. Combeferre and Musichetta shared a quick hug before he passed a gift to Joly. It was the biggest gift in the pile but the worst wrapped in just a black garbage bag.

"I know you're going to love it." His hypothesis was confirmed when Joly clapped and bounced up to jump up and down. 

"Oh Combeferre, I do love it! I have always wanted a CPR dummy!" He squeezed the plush woman (indicated by the slight curve of breast) like he would Bossuet. Then he traded the dummy to give Combeferre a 'thank-you' hug. Combeferre was as much of a hugger as Enjolras, not a hugger at all. Well maybe he was a little more pro-PDA than Enjolras, but he was awkward about it. He went back to cuddling with his dummy for a few minutes before returning to reality. 

"My gift is for Grantaire, but, even though it's against the rules, I wanted to give you all a little something-something." He rummaged through a gift bag for the groups trinkets. With a wide smile spread across his rosy face he showed off a handful of pocket sized bottles of hand-sanitizer. "It's my own personal brand!" He squealed. "I just got FDA approval last week! Joly Good Sanitizer: Do Not Consume." He giggled rocking back and forth. "So clever." He recovered handing out the squeezable bottles to his congratulatory friends. 

"Awesome Joly!" Bahorel dumped a pile onto his hand and rubbed it in. "Smells like clean-ness." 

"Cleanliness." Combeferre corrected. 

"I'm a fucking lawyer. I think I know what I'm talking about." Bahorel retorted excepting Epoine's scold for dropping F-bombs in front of Gavroche.

Joly gave Grantaire some really nice markers that he is always whining about yearning for because his brand is cheap and crappy. 

"Some of you may know that I have exactly zero dollars so getting gifts is pretty much impossible, but don't you worry Bossuet, I made it my mission to get you the best gift ever without spending anything! There are a lot of little things so pull them out so I can tell you about them." Grantaire instructed already half asleep from over-drinking. Bossuet pulled out a Tupperware container of cookies. "Those are cookies that Courfeyrac's mom made, there fricking awesome and she made them just for you!" he gulped down another bottle. 

"Wait you wasted Trudy's cookies on that?" Eponine exclaimed. "Sorry Bossuet, but Courfeyrac’s mom's cookies make life worth living. You are most definitely sharing with me!" Bossuet smirked at her before taunting her by savoring a cookie. Next he pulled out a thin canvas with a realistic painting of the whole gang including Marius and Azelma but no Cosette or Gavroche. It was Bossuet in the middle with Musichetta and Joly at either side, Jehan blushing softly due to Courfeyrac's arm slung around his shoulders in a nearly romantic fashion, Enjolras scowling into the distance with Grantaire looking at him longingly with a bottle of booze. Combeferre sat cross legged on the ground with Eponine next to him and Azelma next to her. Feuilly was standing with Bahorel laughing like usual. Marius looked exceptional handsome in paint form next to Courfeyrac. In fact everyone looked gorgeous, especially Enjolras who Grantaire had painted to look like he was almost glowing. 

"Painted it myself. Stole the canvas from the school though." Bossuet thanked him. "Hold your horses, there's more." Bossuet pulled out the final piece of his gift, everyone was shocked. It was the Enjolras wig. THE ENJOLRAS WIG! 

Last year, Courfeyrac was starring in Hairspray, playing the coveted role of Link Larkin. During the run of the show, he invited the whole gang to come and watch. After bows, Grantaire, Bahorel, Eponine and Feuilly went backstage to congratulate him. When they were getting lost in the maze of a basement to find Courfeyrac, Grantaire and Bahorel stumbled across the hair and make-up room. The room was a dark concrete box down on the lowest level of the backstage area filled with bright make-up, glitter and wigs mounted on Styrofoam heads. No one was down there because all the cast members were yanking off their costumes in exchange for street clothes so they could greet who ever came to support them that night upstairs (Which is where they should be rather than slinking around in the basement). Bahorel strolled inside to examine a poofy wig that Tracey, the leading lady, had worn. Grantaire tumbled in after to inspect vials of colorful glitter. He popped open a green one. 'Bahorel,' He had said to get Bahorel to face him. Wearing Tracey's bump-it hairdo, Bahorel swiveled around to look at Grantaire.

'Surprise!' He launched the glitter at him. Sputtering out green flakes of shimmer and cussing loudly, Bahorel grew red with fury.

'You got it in my fucking eye you dip-shitter!' He bellowed hurling his fist blindly at the air. His vision was impaired by the emerald glitter so his forceful knuckles collided with a Styrofoam head. Grantaire bent down to retrieve a fallen wig made of loose spirals of luscious gleaming gold. 

'Oh my God, Bahorel!' He gasped carding his hands gently through the wig.

'What the hell?' He crouched down next him. 'That looks just like....' He trailed of petting the golden curls. 

'Enjolras.' He breathed. Hesitantly, Grantaire stuck the wig down his shirt and scampered off. Later that night at the Musain he came wearing it, imitating their fearless leader. Everyone laughed, but Enjolras glared at him with those blue eyes that could shatter glass with a glance. Thus the Enjolras Wig was born.

Back in current time, Bossuet was agog. Had Grantaire really decided to give up his beloved wig? "Grantaire, this is, this is- unbelievable. I-I can't accept." He stuttered staring at it in absolute awe. 

"Dude, you're the only one who actually can use a wig. Seriously man, it's yours. Merry Christmas." Bossuet gave him the most sincere hug of all. He knew how much Grantaire loved Enjolras and to think that he would give up something resembling him, it was truly gratifying. 

It was a well-known fact that Enjolras didn't except gifts on Christmas, the only time he did except gifts was his birthday. So that made Bossuet’s life easier. Every year whoever was lucky enough to draw his name made a donation to some charity he was favoring lately. And every year Enjolras would smile brightly, nod and give his thanks. This year was no exception. 

Enjolras drew Feuilly's name this year. Feuilly was easy to shop for, he usually asked for a crisp $20 bill paired with a hug. But Enjolras had more money than he knew what to do with (thanks his disgustingly wealthy parents) so he gave him a nice hundred. Everyone wanted Enjolras to draw their name because that was just what he did, he spent his father's money carelessly just to rebel against his wishes, and during the holiday season he splurged on whoever's name he drew. 

Feuilly was as poor as Grantaire, he had no inheritance from his dead parents and his job didn't pay well. So he gave Courfeyrac a collection of crafts he had made over the course of his career at the craft store. It included origami, scarves, fans and painted ceramics including a picture frame decorated tackily with a picture of him and Courfeyrac. "Thanks bro." he hugged him across the circle. "Alright guys, you all know that I had the pleasure of getting a gift for the one and only Jehan." He began to stand and take his guitar out of its case "So Jehan, I wrote you a song and got you some of the bath salts you like so much." He tossed him a bag of bath salts before taking a seat on a stool with his guitar ready. "Alright, I hope that after this you know how I feel." He started strumming a few chords as an intro. The verses were mainly about the things he liked about Jehan and the pre-chorus was saying that he wasn't good at writing poems but he could write a song. Than the chorus went a little like this.

"I wish you could just braid me in your hair,  
And let me kiss you everywhere.  
I never tried for someone of my league before  
But you make me beg for more.  
You're pretty and you're smart.  
You wear kick-ass skinny jeans.  
I want to talk heart-to-heart,  
and hand-in-hand.  
If you'd just give me a chance, I'd love to be your man." 

He sang and sang, slowly melting Jehan's already soft-heart. By the time he sang the final note Jehan was openly weeping, he threw himself onto Courfeyrac without any reluctance. The two shared a hungry kiss. 

"Whoa, I didn't know you hung out gays 'Ponine." Gavroche interrupted the wondrous moment. Eponine and Azelma pushed him backward. Jehan released feeling self-conscious about kissing Courfeyrac in front of a child and all their friends. 

"Courfeyrac, thank you so much, I'd love to be with you too." He was radiantly happy. The two cuddled the rest of the night. Jehan couldn't even break their embrace to hand Eponine her gift. She reached for it herself. It was a characteristically Jehan sweater, over-sized and feminine. 

The Thenardier boy tore his own gifts open with childhood bliss ablaze in his youthful eyes. Cosette handed Azelma a wrapped up box with handmade quilt inside. She gushed a thank-you and handed a gift over to Marius.  
"You owe all your thanks to 'Ponine, she picked it out, I don't even know what it is." Marius reached into the bag. He pulled out something that puzzled him, what was it? 

"Holy shit, 'Ponine! You got Marius a dildo?" Bahorel laughed. Eponine was every bit as horrified as Marius.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I must've grabbed the wrong bag from your closet!" Azelma shrieked. 

"No shit! Chetta gave that to me when I was single on Valentine's Day last year. I never took it out of the bag- well, after that night." Eponine regretted basically admitting she masturbated last Valentine's Day. Marius dropped the dildo shocked that it was used. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's-it's alright." He shook off the awkward moment.

Cosette accepted her gift from Marius merrily. Inside the paisley patterned wrapping paper box was a ring, more specifically, a promise ring. It was indescribably beautiful, almost enchantingly so, it made Cosette's sparkling eyes look wide and dull in comparison. "Oh Marius!" She gasped. "It's beautiful!" 

"It's a promise ring, it promises that you and I will be together every day, and one day when we're ready, you'll let me marry you." He was trembling and Cosette crying tears of the purest joy. Crying 'yes' she nodded rapidly and pulled him into an embrace. 

"That escalated quickly." Gavroche muttered to Grantaire.

"They haven't even kissed yet, pretty sure Marius is a commitment whore." Grantaire murmured back.

All the sudden the door slammed shut, Eponine was gone. Azelma and Combeferre chased after her to provide comfort. When they came back a few minutes later with Eponine forcing herself not to cry, Jehan segwayed into the wish tree ornaments. They scrawled wishes on per cut yellow parchment and stuffed the papers into the glitter. 

Chatter resumed shortly after, everyone piled on the couches and chairs even some cross-legged on the carpet. Jehan was hanging on Courfeyrac sweetly but Eponine wasn't as happy. Her and Combeferre were talking outside in the backyard, he couldn't get her to open up about why the promise ring was upsetting her so much. Enjolras was having an enjoyable time listening to stories and discussing future rallies but something was missing. It wasn't Eponine, he and Eponine had never been close, they were hardly friends. It wasn't Combeferre, he was usual quiet and not too notable in group settings. After a quick scan he realized who was missing.

Grantaire

The skeptic had wondered off somewhere. Enjolras politely excused himself to look for Grantaire out on the front porch. Opening the door he felt the icy gust of winter wind slapping against him and the sudden rush of happiness from seeing Grantaire that shocked him even more than the cold. "What're you doing out here? It's freezing!" He shivered. Grantaire smirked with a cigarette in-between his lips.

"Jehan's worse about smoking in his house than you are." Grantaire puffed out a cloud of smoke. "Says he's worked long and hard to get his house to smell the way it does, something about fruity-ass candles and flowers. Effing Twink." 

"You shouldn't be smoking anyways, Grantaire. It's not good for your lungs."

"Oh Great Apollo! In all your perfection, have you come to bestow your wisdom upon a mere mortal such as I?" He mocked putting the cigarette back into his lips.

"Grantaire, don't mock me. I'm only trying to help." Enjolras was never amused with Grantaire's teasing and quips. 

"I don't need your help." He grumbled. Enjolras shot him a look.

"Of course you don't! You're only drinking yourself to death and destroying your lungs. It's not like it matters. You can quit whenever you want. Besides, even if you died it wouldn't matter would it? We were put on this earth to die anyway! Oh wait I'm not the pessimistic useless sack of shit. That's you." All the words Enjolras said affected him, especially the hurtful ones. Each word pierced him making him feel more emotions then he thought he could feel and it wasn't just tonight, every careless insult, every heated argument, it was killing Grantaire more than his drinking. 

"At least I'm not the psychotic, self-righteous, prude who goes prancing around trying to save every hopeless cause! You can't free everyone! You can't save the pandas! You can't stop pollution! You can't end world hunger! You think you can do whatever you put your mind to and you think you're all brave and smart for doing that crap but you’re just being dumb! Stop wasting your life, pretty boy!" Grantaire was masking his pain with his own insulting monologue.

"If you don't believe in our causes, if you don't think we are capable of achieving our goals, then why did you even join us? Huh? Maybe I believe a little too whole-heartedly but you don't believe in anything!" Grantaire could feel himself heaving in breathes in fits of rage. He wanted to just scream I love you! I love you! He wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss him all over until he can't breathe.

"Because I believe in you! It's you Enjolras! It's always been for you! I hurt and I burn and it's all to get close to you! The flame in the darkness! You're the one thing that gives me, a cynic, hope!" Here it comes. There was no way to stop it. "I love you!" He finally blurted out. He had said those words to him before but never with such sincerity, never with such vulnerability. Enjolras just looked at him not revealing his emotions. But Grantaire was still boiling with rage and overcome with tears streaking his red face, he had to get out of there. Giving out one last huff of emotion he fled the scene, running out of sight. 

For a moment Enjolras just watched him fade in the blackness. Abandoned, his cigarette was flickering on the porch; Enjolras's eyes fell on it when Grantaire had disappeared. He scooped it up mournfully. It was strange, how Grantaire tried to give off this impression that he wasn't as fragile as he was. Maybe it was just him -Enjolras- that made him so weak, that his fiery passion burnt Grantaire sometimes. Enjolras examined the cigarette. Enjolras couldn't help feeling responsible for Grantaire's nasty habits. He was always hurting Grantaire and in turn Grantaire found his comfort in a bottle or a cigarette. 

\----------------------

It didn't take long for Grantaire to stumble into a 7-11, but long enough for him to contract a fever. He wasn't feeling very well when he fell into a chair and swallowed a bottle full of liquor. The girl behind the counter looked very worried about this scruffy man moping in the corner. 

"Sir?" Her voice was shaking nervously. He couldn't blame her, a drunken Grantaire looked the type to pull out a gun or get a little frisky. Grantaire looked up at her tearfully; she immediately turned soft filling with concern. "Are you ok?" He shook his hoping that will suffice. The counter girl wasn't sure what to say next so she grew very quiet. 

He sat there for half an hour before he got a text. It wasn't from Enjolras, the only person he wanted to talk to right now. Courfeyrac obviously couldn't tear his eyes away from his new boyfriend to notice Grantaire's absence and Eponine was crying about Marius. Azelma had texted him.

Azelma- Where r u?

Grantaire thumbed out a reply.

Grantaire- 7-11 Enj and I had a fight

Azelma- That sucks are you ok?

Grantaire- I feel shitty. Probably got a fever or something. Not sure how to get home

Azelma didn't reply. Grantaire slumped down in his seat even further. He started dozing off in drunken slumber and hallucinating from his fever. Hours must have passed before Grantaire shook awake, the girl at the counter was before him. 

"Look, this isn't a hotel, if you're just going to sit around here you're going to have to leave, sorry." She was attempting to be assertive. Grantaire grunted and pushed past her. Not sure where he was going, he tumbled out the door into the unforgivingly cold night. Aimlessly, for what seemed to be and endless amount of time, he meandered through the networks of roads in a sketchy part of town. He caught himself weeping at times or cursing loudly without being aware of it at first. Sometimes he was very dizzy and clammy but all the while he was shivering. Every muscle ached in weakness, he gave up. He fell to his knees, he had been alone in the dark when he was drunk after a fight with Enjolras, but he had never felt like this. 

Out of nowhere, a pair of headlights emerged in the bleak night and a red Prius pulled up next to him. Grantaire sprang to his feet. Enjolras. He looked lovely as ever behind the wheel. "Why am I always asking you this question? What the hell are you doing?" Enjolras looked inwardly beaten, tired and above all stressed. Grantaire started walking away. 

"I'm not in the mood." Enjolras pulled forward following Grantaire.

"C'mon Grantaire! Get in! You're sick, you need to get somewhere warm and have some sort of medicine." He insisted. "Joly will kill me if I don't take you home and get you better!" He tried to joke. Grantaire couldn't hold in a slight chuckle. 

"Never thought you'd beg to take me home." He quipped cutely. Enjolras opened the door for him from the inside.

"Get in before I change my mind." Enjolras teased. Grantaire clambered into the car with zero grace. Enjolras's car was known for its total lack of music. Tonight was no different. Silence. Enjolras drummed his fingers against the wheel sporadically. Things were getting awkward. 

"I'm sorry about earlier." Enjolras admitted. 

"I'm sorry too. I was being just as much of a jerk as you. And I shouldn't have run off." Grantaire replied regretfully. Enjolras nodded accepting his apology.

"Y-you you scared me." Enjolras turned to him to look into his eyes. Grantaire swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably. Seeing that his gaze made Grantaire uncomfortable, he directed his focus back to the road. "I don't like when you do that. You know, r-run off."

"I'm sorry." He whispered in a hushed, unsupported tone that wavered near tears. 

\-------------------

When they reached Enjolras's house, Enjolras supported Grantaire's weight until he set him on the couch.  
"Now, you are going to lie down and rest, I'll get some blankets for you and something for that fever." Without another word, Enjolras was gone. Grantaire examined his place. It was the largest house out of everyone in their group, the fanciest of them too. It reminded him slightly of the Gryffindor common room from Harry Potter, full of red and gold and books, mountains of books, elegant trinkets on regal bookcases and tables. Everything about the room screamed Enjolras. 

The light of Grantaire's world returned adding warmth to the room. He had stacks of blankets cradled in his arms and a bottle of medicine cupped in his manly hands. Grantaire sat up lazily.

"Open up." Enjolras filled a spoon with diluted red liquid before lifting it level to his mouth. Obediently, Grantaire's jaw fell, opening his mouth. Enjolras emptied the spoon into his mouth carefully. For dramatic emphasis Grantaire made a sickened face at the bitter taste of the medicine. "Oh don't be such a baby!" Enjolras teased good-naturedly. Next he pulled the blankets over Grantaire in a way that left him basically straddling Grantaire, face-to-face with the blankets clutched in his hands. When he released, fully covering him, he just stopped for a moment. 

"When I'm sick," Grantaire began meekly. "Courfeyrac stays with me." Enjolras didn't answer only turned away. "C-Could you?" Grantaire was never vulnerable; he hated feeling exposed that way. Enjolras was scared, how could he feel this way? 

"If that's what you need." He said dutifully crawling under the covers with the man that perplexed him, infuriated him and loved him, but did he return those feelings? He wasn't even sure. 

"When I'm sick," He started again. "Courfeyrac, he-he holds my hand." Did he push too far? Enjolras nodded, doing what he asked. Heart fluttering, Grantaire couldn't believe Enjolras was holding his hand; they were resting on the same couch. Two hands lace together in a union different than friendship, it frightened Enjolras, shaking him to the core. How could he feel this way? "When I'm sick," He was weaker than ever in his delivery. "Courfeyrac cuddles with me- sometimes." There was no sound. Enjolras had never felt like this, so helpless and afraid to move, to speak, to be in the one thing he never thought he'd experience. Grantaire felt his heart break. He started turning away. "M'sorry, I'll just-" he felt Enjolras tug at him until he was once again face the most beautiful creature to bless the world with his glow. 

"No, I want to." Trembling, Enjolras pulled Grantaire into his arms in a strong embrace. Accepting being held so tenderly, Grantaire nuzzled into Enjolras's chest. Both had never been so petrified. "But you do know, I will be asking Courfeyrac about this tomorrow, when I find out this was one of your games you are dead." Enjolras joked. Grantaire huffed a nearly silent but sincere laugh.

"Might wanna kill Courf, while you're at it. He'll never let you hear the end of it if he finds out you cuddled with me." 

"I'm just being a good a friend. Besides the teasing sounds more like you than Courfeyrac." He chuckled feeling a little more comfortable enjoying this. After a long moment of companionable silence, a raspy whisper emerged from the darkness. 

"Will you sing to me? Please?" Grantaire breathed quietly. Enjolras's first instinct was to protest saying things like 'I don't sing.' or 'Oh because I'm supposed to do everything Courfeyrac does?' but he decide to be a little gentler. 

"I don't know any songs." 

"Make one up. One that tells me how you feel right now, I'd like to know." Grantaire talked him into it. Enjolras couldn't make sense of his feelings, even though they had been building and being suppressed for years, everything felt so- sudden.  
"Suddenly you're here," Grantaire listened intently. "Suddenly it starts, can to anxious hearts beat as one?" His singing was every bit as wonderful as Enjolras's appearance and his brilliant mind. "Yesterday I was alone, today you are beside me. Something still unclear, something not yet here has begun." Grantaire hung on every lyric reading into it. It confused him, was the man he pined for contemplating possibly having feelings for him? "Suddenly the world seems a different place, somehow full of grace, full of light." Full of light? Grantaire was filling his world with light? If he only knew. "How was I to know that so much love was held inside me? What was past is gone. Now we journey on through the night." When Enjolras sang 'what was past is gone' Grantaire hoped he meant his celibacy. "How was I to know at last that happiness could come so fast? Trusting me the way you do, I'm so afraid of failing you. Just a boy who cannot know that danger follows where I go. There are shadows everywhere and memories I cannot share." Grantaire wasn't sure what the danger section was about but he still clung to Enjolras and his voice. "Nevermore alone, nevermore apart, you have warmed my heart like the sun. You have brought the gift of life," He paused shortly. "And love, so long denied me. Suddenly I see what I could not see. Something, suddenly has begun." With that, Grantaire muttered his appreciation saying he was even better than Courfeyrac. While Grantaire drifted into a peaceful sleep, Enjolras couldn't turn his mind off from thinking about his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Tell me how I did and please, I'm always looking for more kudos! And I wanted to put in 'Suddenly' from the 2012 movie because it fits well with Enjolras's feelings. I changed some of the lyrics to fit better but I don't really know how to connect the danger part. Maybe I'll make something up that fits that and the memories I cannot share. Ah! I just got an idea! Bye! I've got to go write! Wow I use way too many exclamation marks. I promise I'm not a crazily enthusiastic person in real-life.... ok maybe I am.... Thank ya'll!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas day! Enjolras, Combeferre and Jehan give back to the community, Grantaire's life keeps getting better and better, We learn a little about Jehan's past and Gavroche learns Azelma's secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really enjoying the lovely comments I've been getting! They make me feel really happy! Please comment and please give me some kudos! This chapter contains some offensive language that in no way reflects my views.

Every Christmas day, Combeferre, Enjolras and Jehan would give back to the children. Enjolras loved spending his father’s money to make him mad almost as much as he loved being charitable. But Enjolras was terrible with children so while Combeferre was dressed as Santa and Jehan took the holiday as an opportunity to wear flamboyant tights, Enjolras sat to the side like a statue. It does seem odd they wouldn't spend the day with family but Enjolras detests his parents, Combeferre would be seeing his parents later that day with Eponine and Jehan's step-mother is Jewish. 

That being said, Combeferre woke up bright and early to go collect little Jehan then Enjolras. After piling on a winter coat over a holiday sweater Jehan knitted for him, he climbed into his grey Ford Escape. The drive to Jehan's house wasn't very long; he was there in no more than five minutes. He lightly rattled his knuckles on the door to call for Jehan; he was a little surprised to see Cosette with intricate braids with flowers and lace woven in. In the morning light she looked more angelic than ever. She had stayed at Jehan's because she had gotten in a terrible fight with her father about spending Christmas Eve with her friends instead of her father, which resulted in her fleeing the house without consent and sleeping at Jehan's. "Oh hello, you're one of Jehan's friends from the Christmas party!" She beamed. 

"Nice to see you again. I'm here to pick him up." Combeferre returned her genuine smile. 

"He's in the shower right now, but he'll be done soon." She promised. "But do come in, we could have a nice chat, I'll get you some Cocoa." Before Combeferre could say 'thanks but no thanks' she was in the kitchen pouring Cocoa into a cute little tea cup with hand painted flowers decorating it. She swirled whipped cream on the surface and garnished it with a wafer cookie. He sipped the drink listening to her chirp about the holiday season, occasionally commenting. 

Shortly after the water stopped, Jehan ran upstairs with a towel tied around his waist and one in a turban on his head. "Cosette did you make Hot Cocoa?" He said before his face turned bright red. "Combeferre! Cosette, why didn't you warn me we had a boy in the house?" 

"Jehan, we're best friends, we have the same reproductive organs, don't be embarrassed that you're in a towel." Jehan was thankful that he said reproductive organs instead of something crude that his Courfeyrac might say. ('We both got dicks') He smiled a bit before scampering back downstairs to change. When he reemerged he was in full elf attire, ready to go. 

"Ok, I'm ready." They started to the door. "Good bye, Cosette!" He waved. 

"Hurry back, I'll be here all day." Combeferre wondered why she wasn't tagging along but didn't bother to ask why, they were late and Enjolras was going to be furious.

Or so they thought.

\---------------

Earlier that morning, when Enjolras woke still grasping Grantaire's hand, he was ready to do something about his feelings that had eaten away at him all night. "Grantaire?" He whispered.

"Grantaire is not available; please leave a message after the beep." Obnoxiously, he moaned a beep. Enjolras went on talking in spite of this. 

"How do you feel about me?" He wondered aloud. Immediately Grantaire bolted upright, shocked at the question. Calming himself, he replied.

"I thought I had made it pretty clear." Grantaire smirked. Enjolras tilted his head as if weighing the answers viability. 

"Well you weren't subtle, but you never said it seriously, you always made it a joke." Grantaire chewed on his bottom lip nervously.

"Not all of us are as confident as you; Combeferre says I use humor as a defense mechanism. So that way I can tell you how I feel and people will laugh with me instead of at me, and you'll get mad because I'm being annoying not because I'm being creepy." He explained with periodic sighs. "I don't like feeling vulnerable, like I do now. Can we stop?" 

"Don't you want to know how I feel about you?" Enjolras prompted. Grantaire rolled his eyes letting out another sigh. 

"Fine! It's your turn to punch my feelings in the face. Go on." Enjolras took a deep breath. 

"I feel really, really scared and frustrated and angry and like a mess of hormones that no matter how hard I try, I can't stop. I feel human, and real, like I'm not some marble statue! I feel like I want to lock myself in my room and cry whenever I see you kiss someone or hear about you sleeping with someone. And I don't know why! I feel like I can't control myself anymore, and I don't want to control myself anymore. I feel like my heart is beating too fast. But above all I feel like I love you." Jaw dropping, Grantaire shook his head rapidly. 

"Don't lie to me. I know you, you don't love me. You hate me! You think I'm useless and annoying and nothing but a drunk!" Grantaire corrected him urgently.

"Do you really think that or do you just enjoy pining and unrequited love?" Enjolras tensed up slightly.

"Things don't work out for me, Enjolras. They just don't! That's how it is!" A twinkle of a tear gleamed in Grantaire's eye. 

"If I didn't love you would I be cuddling with you? If I didn't love you would I be telling you that I did? If I didn't love you would I be..." His intensity dwindled into a whisper. "Hard?" Grantaire's eyes widened. "If I didn't love you would I do this?" He threw himself on top of Grantaire and straddled him giving him his first kiss with so much wet passion and love. Grantaire wanted to kiss back, he did, but it stung, he knew this was too good to be true, either he or Enjolras would wake up soon. But for now he had a little freak-out in his mind. Enjolras was kissing him!

"You don't mean any of this! I don't even want you to! You're just so perfect, why would you want me?" 

"Grantaire, ever since I met you, I knew you were different, I knew you were going to challenge me and push me to my limits. I knew you were going to change my life, I was ready for that. Did I know it would be in this aspect of my life? No. Grantaire, you came into my life to teach me love and I came into yours to love you as well. I have come to terms with it and so must you. I wouldn't throw away my celibacy for just anyone, you're special." 

Grantaire stared at him for a long moment, basking in his glory. Was this all true? Did he love him in return? Could something so lovely actually desire him, an ugly scrap of a thing? What was his response? "Promise you love me?" Grantaire pointed his pinky at him batting his eyelashes to be silly. With a warm laugh that aroused Grantaire, Enjolras curled his pinky around it sentimentally.

"I promise." He kissed his forehead. "Promise you believe me?" 

"I think I can learn to, believing you isn't much different than believing in you." he scooped Enjolras into a cuddle position where they were both hugging and Enjolras used his chest as a pillow and his legs wrapped around Grantaire's waist. "I love you." Grantaire whispered before falling into a peaceful slumber. 

\-----------------------  
An hour later, Jehan and Combeferre drove up the gravel drive to Enjolras's house while Jehan sang out a girly pop song along with the radio shamelessly. Combeferre parked before Jehan bounced to the door. His keys to his friends’ houses were color coded; Combeferre's was blue, Bahorel and Feuilly's place was yellow, Musichetta's was black, Cosette was purple, Joly's and Bossuet's was orange, his own house key had a peach cap and Enjolras's was red. Without a knock, because Jehan didn't ever knock, he pushed the door open with Combeferre following him at his heels. 

What they saw shocked them both, Combeferre could sense a squeal brewing within Jehan, to prevent it from emerging Combeferre clasped his hand over Jehan's mouth. Enjolras and Grantaire were snuggling, both with smiles spread across their faces. Acting as a pillow for his beloved Apollo, Grantaire was murmuring in his sleep. "Don't. Make. A. Sound." Combeferre said in a low demanding voice. Combeferre pulled Jehan into the kitchen in a spot where they were hardly visible if they crouched, but still had a decent view of the cuddle buddies.

"What do we do?!" Jehan whispered. "If we wake them up Enjolras will be embarrassed and it will spoil everything! God, I wished I'd knocked!" 

"Maybe if we sneak out the back way, we can knock on the door and give Enjolras time to hide Grantaire." Combeferre thought aloud. Jehan pondered they idea for a moment but shook his head. 

"We should just make it seem normal." He stood leading him back to the living room. "We need to cuddle." Jehan put his hands on his hips, proud of his idea. On the other hand, Combeferre looked like a socially awkward teen asked to dance by the homecoming queen, mortified. 

"No!" He shook his violently. "I'm not cuddling with you! I have a girlfriend! And you have a boyfriend!" He exclaimed. "And I'm not gay!" He blurted out. 

"Yeah you made that very clear in middle school." He crossed his arms bitterly. What Jehan was referring to made Combeferre feel guilty and uncomfortable. He was speaking of middle school, when Jehan was bullied at school. He was an easy target for teasing with his flamboyant dressing and long braided hair. Jehan really needed a friend at the time and he tried desperately to befriend Enjolras and Combeferre, two boys he thought the world of. But then Combeferre wasn't as accepting. Enjolras probably wouldn't mind having the little poet at his service, but Combeferre wasn't sure how he felt about gay people at the time. Now of course, homosexuality didn't bring out the bigot in him. He wasn't overly rude or anything to gay people just distant. 

When Jehan found a way to weasel his way into a friendship with Enjolras, it forced Combeferre to be around him; he mostly ignored him and was not at all comfortable near him. Unfortunately, Jehan developed a crush on Combeferre. On Valentine's Day, Jehan arrived with a paper heart with lace trim and a poem written in lovely handwriting on the red construction paper made especially for Combeferre. He walked the halls holding it proudly on his way to Combeferre's locker. At the time, Combeferre was flirting (quite badly) with a pretty girl with billowing blonde hair. A big romantically blissful smile stretched across Jehan's face as butterflies flutter in his stomach when he neared Combeferre. 

'Hi Combeferre.' Jehan had said. The girl and Combeferre turned to face the cute poet, both looking less than pleased. 'Be mine?' he presented his Valentine. Combeferre looked around, people were staring, and the blonde girl with the pretty face was laughing along with others. He turned back to Jehan, he wasn't ever mean, that wasn't Combeferre, Combeferre was calm, but pubescent Combeferre lashed out on Jehan. 

'Get the hell away from me, faggot! I'm not some gay ass butt-pirate like you! Just do us all a favor and leave and never come back she-male!' He shoved him against the wall of lockers, snatched the valentine and tore it up. Jehan had slid to the ground with tears falling down his face. As one final display of disgust, Combeferre threw the scraps of the Valentine at him and stormed off. 

Combeferre never forgave himself, even though Jehan did and became his second best friend. Whenever Jehan brought it up, Combeferre felt remorseful. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

"They're waking up!" Jehan cried urgently. "Hurry up and cuddle with me!" He yanked Combeferre into a velvety chair near the door that turned slightly towards the couch. Jehan flung his arms around him forcing him to cuddle with him. Enjolras's eyes fluttered open to see his best friends cuddling, one looking very uncomfortable and the other had a look of urgency spread across his face. "Good morning!" Jehan chirped. 

"What the hell?" Grantaire snarled waking up from his best night of sleep ever. 

"Just thought we would sit while we waited! Enjolras, we have to get going!" Jehan stood up slowly. Enjolras nodded dutifully and scampered off to get ready. When they were alone with Grantaire, Jehan begged for the 'dets'. 

"Nothing happened!" Grantaire said in exasperation. "I was sick so he stayed with me last night. Not a big deal." 

"Don't you dare lie to me!" Jehan snapped unexpectedly. 

"Fine, we-we we kissed. No big deal!" Jehan gasped.

"No big deal?!" He squealed. "That's like saying that William Shakespeare was no big deal, Edgar Alan Poe was no big deal, or Victor Hugo was no big deal!"

"Who the hell is Victor Hugo?" Grantaire interjected. The three thought for a moment, not exactly sure themselves who the author Jehan referred to was. 

"Ok, not sure, but those other guys, pretty much a big deal." Jehan finally broke the silence. "Grantaire, stop being a cynic and be happy. Really, it's about time." Combeferre looked extremely uncomfortable, Enjolras kissed Grantaire? Something wasn't adding up. Sure he knew it was bound to happen eventually, but a part of him didn't want it to happen so soon and without Combeferre's approval. Enjolras had never dated anyone, something Combeferre was thankful for; he was a little selfish when it came to sharing Enjolras. He was okay with sharing him with little Jehan because Jehan wasn't needy or obsessed with Enjolras like Grantaire. 

Combeferre was zoning out into his own little universe of thoughts while Jehan enthusiastically chatted with Grantaire who didn't return the excitement. Soon enough the noise faded away, Enjolras had silenced it with his striking presence. 

"Combeferre, Jehan, Shall we?" He cleared his throat. Jehan sprang to his feet with a nod. While Grantaire looked unsure of what to do, Combeferre stood. "Grantaire," Enjolras began. Grantaire looked at him hopefully. "I just texted Courfeyrac, he says he will pick you up." Enjolras was clearly trying to sound as business as possible, he didn't want anyone to know. Waiting for Grantaire to mumble an acknowledgement to Enjolras’s words, Grantaire surprised him with a respectful nod rather than a snarky comment. 

Jehan, Enjolras and Combeferre left the cynic alone to wait for Courfeyrac to pick him up. But Grantaire wasn't going to be respectful of Enjolras's home; he scampered up the stairs to Enjolras's room to retrieve a souvenir, a pair of boxers. 

\------------

Azelma was alone in Combeferre's house with Gavroche. She didn't want to talk about her pregnancy with him just yet but she did feel that it was important for him, and the rest of the gang, to know. How could she bring it casually? 'Hey Gav, I'm pregnant'? No that won't do. 

"'Zelma, did you hear 'bout that time Mom tried to give me a kiss when she was scammin' some prick with a crap-ton of cash?" Gavroche began the story cheerfully. 

"No what happened?" Azelma asked absent mindedly running her thumb against the thin pages of one of Combeferre's book so the pages would curve upward and fall again making a shuffle sound. 

"I spat at her and told the guy I had never seen that woman in my life! The bloke got the p'lice on it and they carted Mom away until I came round to the station, laughin my head off, and straighten the 'ole thing out." Gavroche reflected fondly on one of his few happy memories with his mother. He hadn't lived with his parents since he was six but he did stop by and saw them around. Azelma gave him a forced giggle response. "What's wrong 'Zel?" He was very intuitive, that little Gavroche. This was it, she was going to break it to Gavroche, but she wouldn't say the father's Montparnasse and that he raped her. With a deep sigh she mentally prepared herself for the conversation ahead, if she let it slip that Montparnasse forced himself upon her, Gavroche would kill him. Before she could begin, there was a gentle knock at the door that made them jump, still on edge because of Montparnasse. They both started towards the door.

"Who goes there?" Gavroche joked in a booming voice. A small, raspy and above all sad voice emerged from the other side of the door.

"It's Eponine!" As soon as they heard this reply, Azelma unlocked the door and pulled it open. Eponine threw her arms around Azelma lovingly. "You're so pretty!" Eponine greeted, her voice muffled as her face was nuzzled against Azelma's long hair. They released.

"And I'm not?" Gavroche teased. Eponine wasn't amused, however. Instead of giving him her laugh, she yanked Azelma into the living room with Gavroche skipping along behind them.

"We need to talk." She said seriously. Azelma know what was next, well now Eponine could explain this whole mess to Gavroche. Azelma signaled her to continue with a nod. "What are we going to do about this baby?" She got it out in the open. Gavroche was stunned.

"Holy shit, Zelma! You got knocked up?" Gavroche cried in astonishment. Eponine hissed at him with narrowed eyes while her little sister's cheeks burnt red. 

"Gavroche!" She scolded. "Be a little more sensitive!" Eponine snapped up to her feet to stir Gavroche to Azelma's bedroom. You'd expect him to protest against leaving but he hung his head and willingly shuffled off to Azelma's sleeping quarters. When Eponine returned Azelma restarted the conversation.

"I've been considering adoption." 

"Adoption?"

"Yeah." Eponine joined her little sister on the couch listening intently. "I mean, I'm really not suited to raise a baby and I don't want to have an abortion either so adoption seems like my only option." Azelma explained seeming embarrassed about the topic of the conversation. 

"Well adoption doesn't seem like a terrible idea, I mean we know what it's like to be raised by people not suited for kids- not that you're at all like our parents- and I know what it means to be adopted, sort of. Courfeyrac's mom adopted me and Grantaire, well not legally but symbolically I guess." Eponine felt guilty that she hadn't brought Azelma to Courfeyrac's mom with her. That could have saved her.

"I'm not sure of course but I've been really considering it." Azelma wanted this conversation to end and fast. Thankfully, Gavroche sauntered out of Azelma's room shyly to ask for an explanation. The sisters exchanged concerned glances and began the sad story of Azelma's rape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking of writing one-shots in this 'universe' and adding it to the series, specifically about the characters childhood. Jehan's story has captured my interest. Is anyone interested in reading more about Jehan? Let me know! I really appreciate you all reading this but I would like some more feedback. So comments? Kudos? Thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire tells Courfeyrac about what happened. Cosette goes home and her Dad seems pretty chill- well for a while. We meet Combeferre's parents briefly and trouble arises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit all of the place... and the cliff hanger.... sorry.... Hope you Enjolras! Oh my gosh I just typed Enjolras instead of enjoy....

"He did what?!" Courfeyrac gasped slamming on the brakes suddenly and rushing to the side of the road to pull over. Grantaire had just finished telling Courfeyrac what had happened the night before with the beautiful marble-man. 

"He kissed me, but it was probably just experimental, you know how he's been lately, questioning his sexuality." Courfeyrac stared at Grantaire gapping. 

"No, actually, I didn't know that. But he must have told you because he loves you!" It sounded like Courfeyrac was about to slap some sense into Grantaire, and by the looks of his flailing arms, it would hurt terribly. "Grantaire, please! Whatever you do, don't screw this up! I have been trying for years to get you two in each other’s pants! I plan on you two thanking me for my labor of love by naming your first adopted son after me. Now if a certain drunk cynic doesn't act on this revelation of feelings and Courfeyrac Jr. is adopted by some other gay couple and named something dumb like Paul, I will tell Eponine you had sex with Azelma and she will murder you slowly. Do you want that?" Grantaire smirked at Courfeyrac, who wasn't amused. Huffing and puffing, Courfeyrac narrowed his eyes at him expecting confirmation that Grantaire was going to ask out Enjolras.

"Fine, I'll take his kiss as an invitation, but when this blows up in my face, I'm blaming you!" He shoved him playfully.

"And when it does work and you guys are hooking up, I get all the credit. And I mean all the credit!" Courfeyrac began to drive now that he was calmed down. For a while they both just watched the town go by.

"How's Jehan?" Grantaire broke the silence casually. This brought a smile to Courfeyrac's handsome face as he reflected fondly on Jehan. They'd only been boyfriends for less than 12 hours but they texted all that night.

"Perfect, we're going on a date tonight. Some fancy swing dance place downtown." He day-dreamed a bit about dancing with an intoxicatingly, beautiful boy with a caramel braid and subtle freckles across his blushing cheek and nose. It was going to be a glorious night. He could hear the ringing of Jehan's melodic laughter faintly. "And your plans for tonight? Getting drunk or seeing Enjolras?"

"Neither." Grantaire grumbled. "I have to watch the Pixie and her little brother for Eponine. She's still worried she'll run off while her and Combeferre go to Ferre's parents house for a little holiday dinner." Courfeyrac cocked his head to one side.

"Why doesn't she bring the little brats along?"

"Gavroche has sticky-fingers and a tendency to be loud, annoying, rude etc. And Azelma refuses to tag along because she's jealous. So looks like I'm having a sleep over with the Thenardier kids at Ferre's." Even though he loves Azelma and thinks Gavroche is hilarious, he is disappointed he can't spend his time with Enjolras.

"Too bad. When do you have to be there?" 

"What time is it?" Grantaire asked.

"Nine." He glanced at his phone quickly. He does not let his phone distract him whole driving, he took the Oprah pledge. 

"Shit! Could you drive me to Ferre's? I have to be there soon. Eponine is meeting Ferre after his little community service thing at noon but wants to leave at nine-thirty so she can run some errands before they leave for the day." Courfeyrac nods and changes his route to the direction of Combeferre's house. 

\--------------------

Cosette took a deep breath and knocked in the front door, it didn't seem right to come inside without being invited by her father after their fight. She had gotten so bored sitting around at Jehan's she decided to make amends with her father. 

"Cosette." He greeted plainly. Valjean looked at his daughter expectantly. Even though he was angry he was glad she had returned and without any visible tattoos. Cosette shifted uncomfortably before him. 

"Hi. About yesterday, I'm sorry." She couldn't even look at him, instead she stared at her feet. Being the fatherly, forgiven man Valjean was, he set his hand gently on her shoulder before pulling her into a long over-due hug. At that, Cosette burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Papa! I'm the worst daughter ever!" 

"Don't you ever say that again, my girl, you are the greatest daughter I could imagine. You are smart, kind, sincere, beautiful, strong, and best of all you admit your mistakes and ask for forgiveness. I'm proud of you, darling, very proud." Valjean released her from the hug with a kiss on her golden hair. "I would like to hear about your night, however." He sat on the couch patting the spot next to him to signal her to join him. She was very hesitant. Should she tell him about Marius giving her a promise ring even though she had been too nervous to mention him before? The decision was made for her when he spotted the ring on her pale finger. "My God Cosette!" He cried snatching her hand to examine it closer. "What have you done?" His voice trembled with unshed tears. Immediately Cosette was crushed.

"Papa, I love him!" Cosette sobbed shaking her hand away to thumb at the ring sentimentally. A smile spread across her face despite the tears; the very thought of Marius made her giddy. 

"No!" Valjean roared. "You are too young! This boy will steal you from me, get what he wants and leave! I can't let you end up like your mother!" Cosette wanted to scream she was so raged by this.

"Marius is nothing like Tholoymes! Don't you dare talk about him like that!" She snapped at her father for the first time in her life. "I'm no longer a child, Papa. I can make my own decisions!" 

"And your own mistakes." Her father growled harshly. 

"If Marius is a mistake, then by God, he's a mistake I'm willing to make! I love him!" She hurried away, racing up the stairs to her second-story bedroom. Valjean chased after her with speed not common for a man his age. Cosette snuck into her room and slammed the door shut, quickly locking it just as it closed. Her Father rattled the door by its knob.

"Cosette, you are not to see this boy again, you are to call him immediately and break-up with him. That is an order!" He bellowed making Cosette shiver. 

"I hate you!" Her voice came to him as a dagger. He had never heard it so loud and uncontrolled. Any louder and her throat would bleed. 

\----------

Eponine had never been more nervous in her life. She fiddled anxiously with her bunch of key chains clipped onto her purse. "Don't be nervous, Eponine." Combeferre instructed with an intuition that he was known for. Gulping, she answered with a shaky nod. "I'm serious, there is nothing to worry about, they're going to love you!" He insisted pulling up to a stately mansion with endlessly expanses of green grass surrounding it. 

"Holy shit." Eponine gasped under her breath. Combeferre let out an uneasy laugh. 

"If you think this is big, you should see, Enjolras's!" At that comment they both felt their inner Courfeyrac developing a devilish grin caused by a dirty mind. 

Combeferre took Eponine's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he knocked on the door with the eagle knocker. Eponine had seen knockers (She could see Courfeyrac's dirty-joke grin in her mind) before, but she didn't know people actually used them. Then a woman with greying hair and bags under hear hazel eyes pulled the door open. "Sir, madame! Your son is here!" She called in an abused voice. As soon as her rough voice echoed through the house, she shuffled away rudely.

Combeferre and Eponine awkwardly stepped into the foyer awaiting a greeting.

Out of nowhere, a bubbly ginger with beautifully freckled limbs rushed around the corner with her long, pale arms wide open to envelope the couple in a loving hug paired with a thrilled, girlish squeal that could only be compared to one of Mr. Jehan Prouvaire. 

"How's my baby?" She pulled away shooting Combeferre a playful smile. 

"Great." He tried to return the glistening grin but it was far too out of character for him to fully muster. "Mother, this is my girlfriend, Eponine. Eponine, this is my mother, Ginny." 

"Nice to meet you." Eponine extended her hand so Ginny could eagerly shake it. 

"Oh sweetie, the pleasure is all mine!" Ginny assured her. She turned back to her son. "Your father is in his armchair in the library. Apparently he couldn't pry himself away from his book to see his son and his very lovely girlfriend." She laughed. "This way!" She cheered directing them to the library.

They past several wondrous rooms before reaching the library where a man that looked exactly like Combeferre was hunched over a book in a comfy orangish chair shoved into the corner. When he heard their footsteps he peered up at them from behind a pair of half-moon glasses that differed from Combeferre's horn-rimmed. As soon as he saw his son a smile brightened his otherwise cold face. He bookmarked his page before standing and making his way to the door to hug his son. 

"Hello, Combeferre." His voice was deep and powerful even when muffled by a hug.

"Hey, Dad." Combeferre seemed elated to see his Dad and Eponine was glad to see that he had a good relationship with his parents. 

"So," He backed away. "This must be the famous Eponine. We've heard so much about you." He shook Eponine's hand. "I'm Clark." 

"Eponine." She introduced herself.

"I know." 

"Right." She gulped uneasily. 

"Combeferre, I'm so happy we get to meet Eponine today but you should come over with Enjolras and Jehan more often, I miss them." Ginny pouted. Combeferre let out an uneasy laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Anywho!" She chirped. "Myrtle has been slaving away all morning! It's time for our Christmas lunch!" Ginny snagged Clark by his muscular arm and pulled him into the formal dinning room. Being as much of a gentleman that he could, Combeferre ushered Eponine behind them. 

They exchanged small talk and seemed very interested in Eponine's life. Combeferre got a few questions about his studies, how Enjolras was, how Jehan was and if he was going to work part-time. Even though Eponine always wanted this, a lovely boyfriend who treated her like a princess, a great set of potential in-laws and hours spent chatting with them over hot-cocoa, she was distracted by her lingering feelings for Marius. Could she still have feelings for him? Of course she could! She loves him even more than the brainy boy she had scored. She pities Combeferre most of all. He loves her with the same passion as she loves Marius with and Marius loves Cosette with. If she couldn't have Marius, didn't she deserve to be happy while she waited for him to come to his senses? There was a pang of guilt that prodded at her occasionally for not truly caring about Combeferre, but it's not like either them expected them to last. Right? 

\-------

Jehan beamed up at his dance partner. "You look lovely tonight." He complimented Courfeyrac with a blissful blush. They'd been dancing for hours, slim bodies pressed against each other in dashing black tuxedos. Jehan had sporadically kissed Courfeyrac on instinct many times through the night and Courfeyrac hadn't been able to wipe the stupid smile off his face the whole time. The brunette leaned toward Jehan's ear to whisper to him.

"What'd you say we go back to your place and have one of those 'Courf/Jehan' sleepovers, like we used to before we started dating?" He asked in a low, seductive purr. Before they started dating, Jehan and Courfeyrac would have sleepovers at Jehan's house where they would cuddle on the couch and watch musicals under a shared blanket, both wearing one of Jehan's cozy, over-sized sweaters (especially Courfeyrac's favorite, the one with the furry tabby cat against a purple and green tie-dye background) Both of the boys had missed falling asleep in each other’s arms to the sweet sound of a good musical. Jehan eagerly agreed by dragging him out of the ballroom to the pitch black night.

The car was a ways away, it was dark and they were in a shadier part of downtown, this had Jehan worried. He clutched Courfeyrac's hand tightly to calm his nerves. Even though Jehan was scared, Courfeyrac remained unaffected by fear and trudged onto the car, keeping his Jehan close. "Courfeyrac, don't walk so close to the buildings, someone could jump out and-" 

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart, nothing’s going to happen." He assured him with a kiss on the head. 

Out of nowhere, a man popped out from behind a car parked on the side of the road next to a parking-meter. Under different circumstances- if he didn't have a knife- he wouldn't be to intimidating, what with his well-groomed appearance and fashionable wardrobe choice. Something about his devilish grin reminded Courfeyrac of someone he'd met a few times and didn't like, he couldn't think of who though. "Wallets." He demanded at once pointing his knife at them. Jehan clung to Courfeyrac and began to sob. Courfeyrac shoved Jehan behind him at once. 

"Look, we don't want any trouble." Courfeyrac began while Jehan rummaged through his satchel for something. 

"What don't you understand, pretty boy? I want your damn money!" He roared. All the sudden, Jehan burst forward with a can of pepper spray in hand that was spewing wildly. The man covered his face as a reflex and bellowed prophanities at the now fleeing boys. The pair had clasped hands tightly to keep together. 

"This way!" Jehan instructed turning the corner. Now they were even further from the car. Courfeyrac glanced behind his shoulder to see the man chasing after them with blazing red eyes. 

"Where are we going!?" Courfeyrac yelped as they ducked into a dark alleyway. The two cuties crouched behind a dumpster with fingers interlocked and bodies close, Courfeyrac leaned forward to check the entry way. A dark shadow of a man loomed in the enterance with his fingers curled around his knife. 

"Haven't you ever heard 'You can run but you can't hide'?" The man sneered. "I've got you now!" Slowly, he swaggered over to the dumpster, his boots clicking against the pavement and puddles sputter under his feet. 

In a sudden fit of courage, Courfeyrac sprang to his feet. "Don't hurt him!" His demand was not nearly as bold as his action, his voice was quivering with fear, on the brink of weeping. 

"Oh sweetie! What a nice-" He buried his knife into Courfeyrac's abdomen forcefully. "Gesture!" He turned it inside of him. Courfeyrac fell to his knees and the man scampered away. Jehan's scream echoed through the alley with tears streaking his face and his fingers feverishly dialing 9-1-1. 

He couldn't lose Courfeyrac, not so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger.... yeah sorry... happy Thanksgiving! Kudos? Comment ideas, suggests and of course FEEDBACK!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac is hurt! All our precious characters are in turmoil as they wait for any news. Also there is a nice prayer circle, Yahoo! Answers and Enjolras and Grantaire attempt to find a label for their relationship. You guys should be pretty please with what Enjolras comes up with (:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear Readers (if I have any...),  
> I apologize for leaving you with a cliffhanger for over a week! I'm sorry. I honestly tried to update but things got in the way and so here we are December 7th almost ten days from when I updated last, with a new chapter. Ooh and my friend just recently started reading this! Say hi to Stephanie in the comment section! And while you're there tell me how I did and leave some kudos! Enjoy!!!

Azelma spent her night lounging on the couch, she had taken this opportunity to wear Combeferre's flannel pajama pants while he was away with Eponine. She was still awake with eyes drooping but Gavroche and Grantaire had both fell into a deep slumber a while ago in their blanket fort to the movie The Lion King. This had been a long Christmas. It had only been a day since she was with Montparnasse and her life was in danger, now she was completely secure with a group of friends protecting her. The whole world seemed at last peaceful. 

Until Grantaire's phone rang.

Everyone groaned at the disturbance. "Hello?" He grumbled still groggy from sleeping with Gavroche nuzzled against him. "What? Jehan, calm down! breathe!" He ordered urgently. All the sudden, Grantaire was on his feet, tying on Combeferre's robe that hung on the door knob to Combeferre's office door. "Are you at the hospital?" Azelma shot up at this, why was Jehan being asked if he was at the hospital? Earlier that night Grantaire had told her that Courfeyrac and Jehan were going on a date, how could a date bring them to the hospital? "We'll be right there." Looks like she was going to find out.

\-------

Another long day of work on Christmas done. It's not like Feuilly minded, he didn't have a family to go home to anyway, well besides his friends. When he got home to his crappy apartment, Bahorel and Musichetta were making-out on the couch, the night before they had a hot one-night-stand and then decided to hang out Christmas and causally kiss. "Leave room for Jesus." Feuilly said lazily flopping into an armchair. Somehow, Musichetta managed to pull away from Bahorel, a very aggressive kisser. 

"You know Feuilly, we'd be more than happy if you'd join us." Musichetta hissed seductively. Bahorel looked absolutely mortified. 

"Ew! No! There is no way I'm doing any of the stuff we did with Feuilly!" Bahorel yelped. "No offense." He recovered clumsily. Feuilly wasn't even pretending to listen, he just wanted to sit and unwind after a long day of stress and ill-paying labor. But of course he got a call to ruin his relaxation. 

"Talk to me." He spat into the phone with his eyes drooping. But Jehan's panicked tone blaring out of the phone shocked his eyes to alertness. "We're there for you, man. See you soon." He hung up abruptly. 

\------------

Marius didn't know what to do when he got the call from Jehan that Courfeyrac was hurt, there was no way for him to get to the hospital besides taking the bus and that was just not going to happen after what went down the last time. Not only was he worried about a friend he couldn't go to, he was mourning his lost relationship, Cosette had broken up with him over the phone. So basically he was wallowing in his own self-pity. Cosette was the best of his life, not only was she completely gorgeous, she was kind and gentle and understanding with a comforting air to her. She was among the few people in the world who always genuinely cared and was eager to listen and help. Now Cosette was out of his life just when he asked her to stay in it forever.

Midafternoon he got the first life-changing call of the day. He saw the call was from Cosette and immediately his mood was brightened. "Hi." You could hear the stupid grin in his breathy voice. All the sudden, his face dropped, Cosette was blubbering nonsense into the phone. He tried to keep up with her wailing but he couldn't understand anything until,

"Goodbye Marius, forever." And how her words stung. It was over as soon as it had begun. 

Now Marius was weeping into his pillow, what was he going to do? His best friend was possibly dying and he had no way to reach him. Like magic, there was a pounding att his door and his prayers were answered. 

Enjolras was at the door. The fearless leader had a way with coming to Marius's rescue. Without explanation he grabbed Marius's wrist and pulled him out of his dorm. "I assume you heard?" Enjolras said d as he toed Marius down the hallway. With a shallow gulp and tears streaking down his freckled face, he gave a weak 'mm hmm' that made Enjolras stop in his tracks. He whirled around to face Marius. “Don’t cry, there’s no need for that, Courfeyrac wouldn’t want that. Besides he’s going to be okay, it’s Courfeyrac.” Enjolras paused to keep from crying with Marius. “He doesn’t just die.” 

Yet. 

\--------------

Eponine and Combeferre were the last of the friends to arrive as they were the furthest away from the hospital. They walked into a waiting room full of strangers, sad people, weeping and clinging to one another. These faces did not belong to their jubilant rag-tag group of friends; at least they didn’t want these faces to belong to them. But unfortunately it was Les Amis who sat in the waiting room preparing for the worst, losing their center, Courfeyrac. As expected, Jehan was taking this the worse, he was bawling uncontrollably into a very stiff and awkward Enjolras. Grantaire was next to him with his head in his hands and his beanie in his fingers. Beside Grantaire, Azelma sat on the floor with Gavroche who was surprisingly emotional about the whole ordeal. Feuilly was on the chair behind Azelma, putting cranes into her hair with Bahorel trying as hard as he could to keep his tough guy image and not break down. In between her two boys, Joly and Bossuet, Musichetta shivered and shuddered in quiet sobs, she loved Courfeyrac so much. 

Eponine went straight to Marius, he was in the corner, balled up, letting tears soak his face. Combeferre rushed to Jehan, he stood up the shuddering poet to comfort him and relive Enjolras of his consoling duties. Never had Combeferre imagined Jehan’s frail body in his arms as he sobbed over the possibility that his boyfriend, Courfeyrac, may die. Sometimes strange situations drive people to do strange things; he dropped a kissed on Jehan’s chestnut hair. “Don’t cry, Jehan, please. He’s going to be okay.” Little Jehan had had just about enough of people saying that Courfeyrac was going to be okay. 

“I was there, Ferre.” He broke away from his embrace. “I saw what happened to him. I heard the knife go inside him. You can’t live through something like that.” He sniffled. 

When a doctor popped in to the room, he was bombarded by the leader of a group of suffering friends, Enjolras. He was fierce as always but the burning passion was stifled by sadness and the fact that he wanted to act professional and respectful towards the doctor. “How is he?” Enjolras panted. The doctor just looked at him for a moment, not sure what to say. “Sir? How is Courfeyrac?” He repeated sternly. Again, he remained silent. “Dammit!” He snapped. “Give me an answer!” The doctor looked over at a broken group of to him, children. All of them were looking at him expectantly with quivering lips. 

“C’mon.” He whispered to Enjolras and pulled him away from the group. 

The group waited for Enjolras to return anxiously. What news would he bring? Who would be the first person to speak and ask him for information? When would he be back?

\------------------------- 

Gavroche piped up “Clark Kent?” He addressed Combeferre with such vulnerability it could reduce a grown man to tears. 

“Yeah?” He crouched down beside him. 

“Does anyone here believe in God?” He asked meekly. He pondered that thought for a second before Joly raised his hand.

“I do.” He joined them on the floor. 

“Me too.” Bossuet and Musichetta followed Joly to the floor. Jehan wiped away a tear, sniffled and plopped down next to Combeferre. While crooning sweet, soothing words into his ear, Eponine lead Marius to the group of believers gathered on the floor. Feuilly lowered himself from the chair behind Azelma and came around to her side. The brawler, Bahorel, glumly crawled onto the floor with his pals. 

“Same here.” He murmured trying hard not to burst out crying. Everyone turned to Grantaire, the only one yet to come down to level with Gavroche. Grantaire was a cynic, no one expected him to believe in anyone other than Enjolras, his golden boy. But Courfeyrac's mom had carted him off to church every Sunday when he lived with them, so he developed a liking for this God guy. You'd expect bible verses and stories that seem fictional would drive Grantaire to be one to satire religion but he learned to believe in them, God touched him nearly as much as Enjolras. 

“I guess.” He grumbled giving in. 

“Can we pray?” He suggested. The gang bowed their heads, held hands and were led in prayer by the youngest of them all, Gavroche. “Dear God, our fr-riend Courfeyrac’s in pretty bad shape. C-could you help him? P-please?” His voice was trembling with the overwhelming emotion brewing within him. “Someone else can go.” He prompted.

“God, we all really care about Courfeyrac.” Combeferre began. “So please, keep him safe. We’re not ready to let him go.” 

“Since I was a little girl, Courfeyrac has been there for me.” Eponine prayed. “He has stood up for me, cared about me, made me laugh, been my best friend and has always been a good guy, don’t take him from us.” She retreated to Combeferre’s embrace. Azelma couldn't watch as he comforted her. Eponine was so lucky to have him. For once she wanted to be loved in return. 

“I don’t want to know life without Courf.” Grantaire put plainly. 

“Me e-either. I l-love him-m, God. He’s all I e-ever w-w-wanted; you c-can’t do this t-to us.” Jehan sobbed, shook and was hysterical with uncontrollable emotion. He loved him so very much. An emotional romantic was not fit to lose their lover. 

“I haven’t known Courfeyrac as long as the others but he’s the best friend I’ve got.” Marius was no longer tearful, he was completely drained; he didn’t have any more tears left. 

They went around like that praying until Enjolras returned. No one spoke in fear of the news that he might carry. “They want to speak to you, Jehan.” He stated hiding all human emotion carefully. The circle of friends gave Jehan reassuring smiles that gave him the push he needed to go speak to the doctor. 

Sighing, Enjolras fell into a chair behind Grantaire, who, like the rest, was still on the floor. With the innocence of a child in his tearful eyes, Grantaire turned to face him, hoping he had some good news to offer. “Please, Enjolras, say something, give me some numbers, give me his chances, give me something to believe in.” Enjolras pursed his pink lips that belonged on a fresh stunning girl. 

“Honestly, they don’t know yet, but by the end of the night, they say we’ll know.” Enjolras blinked away silver tears as he struggled to keep from launching forward to kissing Grantaire until his suffering ceased. 

All the friends rushed to greet Jehan with warm hugs; they knew how hard this was for him. Although they hadn’t been dating for very long, Jehan had loved Courfeyrac all his life, even before they met, Jehan had always had so much love for his someone and now he had his someone. “I’m staying here tonight.” He collected himself just enough to state. At that time, Feuilly left so he could get some sleep before work the next day. Since Bahorel and Musichetta drove with them, they had to leave too. Joly and Bossuet didn’t stay much longer; they weren’t allowed to see him so it was pointless to stay there. No matter how much Eponine wanted to stay with Jehan, she thought it would be best to take Azelma and Gavroche home to get some sleep, so Eponine, Azelma, Gavroche and Combeferre went home.

The only friends who remained were Marius, Grantaire, Jehan and Enjolras. 

\--------------------------

Grantaire couldn’t sleep, not even for a second; he was far too worried about his best friend. The waiting room was dark and the only noises were from machines running and Marius occasionally murmuring in his sleep about him being a stable boy and Cosette being a princess. However, there was a single light source emanating in the darkness that was annoying the hell out of Grantaire. He sat up to look for this bothersome shining. Somehow Jehan had convinced Marius to cuddle with him, the sight puzzled Grantaire for a moment but then he knew that he would cuddle with poor, weepy Jehan if he asked so Marius, being a nice but shy kid, probably wouldn’t hesitate. The light was coming from a computer screen, more specifically, Enjolras’s laptop that was resting on his lap. His face looked ever so angelic with the glow of the screen; Grantaire couldn’t help but smile for just a moment at his excellence. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He moaned startling Enjolras to the point of him nearly throwing his laptop into the quiet, undisturbed air. 

“Nothing!” He answered a little too quickly. Enjolras tried to slam his laptop shut but Grantaire caught it before the two halves met, closing the laptop. As he took it out of Enjolras’s lap, Enjolras grew extremely red, turned away and covered his face in utter embarrassment. 

Enjolras had been noodling around on Yahoo! Answers. The current page was one of Enjolras’s questions, (he knew that because the username was 4partia) the question made his eyes grow wide with shock. It read: ‘In love with someone who loves me but doesn’t want to be with me.’ The details read:

‘I have never asked a question on an internet site such as this before, but desperate times call for desperate measures. A while back I realized a guy who aggravated me very much was in love with me and flirting tirelessly. It was brought to my attention my feelings may have been misinterpreted. I began falling in love with him and now I conclude he is the love of my life. On Christmas Eve, I blew up and he ran off. I chased after him for hours, crying and singing sappy love songs along to the radio (don’t tell anyone I said that) until I finally found him. He was sick so I brought him home with me, got him some medicine and set up a bed for him on my couch. Then he asked me to stay with him, and hold his hand, cuddle with him then finally sing to him. In the morning I asked him how he felt about me and then told him I was in love with him. Although he basically worships me, he didn’t believe me or want it to be true. It was all very I Don’t Know How to Love Him from Jesus Christ Super Star. I tried to explain that I loved him and he finally gave in and made me promised I wasn’t joking. But now I’m not sure what to do. He hasn’t talked to me about what happened yet. Should I ask him out? Please help me; I’ve never been in love before.’

Grantaire wanted to fling the laptop across the room in freight. Enjolras couldn’t love him, he wasn’t worthy of such a fine man. He looked at Enjolras who was so humiliated; the marble statute was verging on tears. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I’m not good with um- feelings.” Enjolras buried his face in his hands. ‘I just want to be with you.’ Just to be an ass, Grantaire hummed the High School song ‘I Just Want to be with you’ which earned him a playful punch on the arm and a little huff of laughter from his Apollo. “I’m scared.” He admitted shyly. 

“I know.” Grantaire turned away with a soft blush spread across his face. Enjolras reached over and turned his face back to meet his eyes. 

“Do you want to be with me too?” He asked hopefully. Yes was his answer, he wanted so bad to be with him and hold him again and kiss him once more, if only he was good enough for Enjolras. All the light and hope left Enjolras’s face. “I guess not.” He turned away. “I thought you liked me. Why won’t you talk to me?” He begged. “I’m trying here! I want to be with you! I know your self-esteem is basically rock bottom and you’re really not in a good place with your drinking and smoking and now Courfeyrac, but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” Enjolras was on his feet gesturing wildly waiting for a response that never came. “What, do you think I’m lying?” Enjolras’s tone shifted to something more usual for him, powerful and irritated. 

“I-I don’t know.” Grantaire finally answered. 

“Well, I’m not! Didn’t we already have this conversation?” He said loudly. Jehan and Marius began to stir. 

“What’s going on? Is it Courf?” Jehan inquired urgently. 

“No.” Enjolras barked.

Jehan looked at him with the most scornful look that said, ‘How dare you!’ He snuggled back into Marius’s chest and tried to sleep again. 

“How can I make you believe? You told me did before!”

“I wasn’t thinking straight.” Grantaire countered.

Enjolras knelt down in front of him, gripped Grantaire’s head so he couldn’t move and said, “How can I make you believe.” He repeated. There was too much sincerity, too much honesty for him to be lying. 

“I believe you.” Grantaire said flatly. “But I don’t want to ruin you.” 

“Stop. Stop with the whole ‘I’m not worthy’ act. You are worthy, you are valuable and you are beautiful. Why don’t you see yourself like I do?” Enjolras stood quickly, put some distance between them, and turned away. “You’re something special, Grantaire.”

Grantaire joined him in standing. “You really want to do this?” He sighed from behind him. Face lighting up with absolute delight, Enjolras whirled around and lurched forward to clash his lips against Grantaire’s. His hands were clutching Grantaire’s head, carding through his hair while Grantaire held onto Enjolras’s hips. When they finally pulled away, Enjolras smiled one of those award-winning, pearly white grins that could melt even a stone heart. 

“So does this make us boyfriends?” Enjolras requested sheepishly. “Because I don’t want this to be like this morning, I want this to be conclusive.” 

“Well that just makes us sound way too formal.” Grantaire returned with a dreamy smirk. 

“You just said us! That means we’re boyfriends, right?” He caught his plural pronoun and reacted with all the joy of a child. Giving a chuckle, Grantaire nodded. Enjolras clutched him again, his head pressed against Grantaire’s chest. “I mean,” He cleared his throat as he straightened up and regained his professional demeanor. “Thank you.” He shook Grantaire’s hand like he would a co-worker. “Goodnight.” Enjolras retreated to his spot. Immediately he curled up, rotated away in awkwardness.

Even though he was so nervous by his out of character behavior, Enjolras couldn’t help but beam, he had a boyfriend for the first time in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys, I know I've said this many times but please leave kudos, I could use a self esteem boast right about now! (: Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is very emotional. The specific emotion is for me to know and you to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, I beg of you, leave kudos. Comment on how I did. I want to hear my 'fans' opinions. If you have suggestions for plots and what you want to read please comment. Yes, I'm talking to you.

The four remaining friends were suffering through a restless slumber; everyone was tossing and turning, wondering if Courfeyrac was okay. Periodically, Jehan would wake up screaming and crying only to be calmed by a very concerned Marius. But the next time Jehan was woken, it wasn’t by nightmares that drove him into hysterical tears, it was the gently hand of a doctor shaking him out of his haunted dream. 

“Are you Mr. Prouvaire?” He whispered as to not wake the others. He nodded with lips pursed, he feared the worst. “Come with me.” He took his hand and led him into Courfeyrac’s room where no one had been permitted to go yet. 

The doctor didn’t need to say anything more, Jehan saw Courfeyrac sitting up with a cheerful smile on his face. “Did I scare you?” He beamed at Jehan who was running at him with absolute glee. Without thinking to ask for consent, Jehan wrapped his arms around his beautiful brunette. Luckily, he was safe to touch as long as you didn’t apply pressure to the wounded area. 

“Are you fucking joking?” Jehan scolded as tears marked his face. Courfeyrac was shocked by the random cussing from such pure lips. “Of course you did! I hope you don’t mind but I used Marius as a cuddle buddy.” 

“Well for now on, I’m your only cuddle buddy.” Courfeyrac stated pulling Jehan onto the bed to snuggle up beside him. 

“Will you get the others? We’re kinda busy.” Jehan asked the thoughtful doctor with a giggle before planting a kiss on Courfeyrac’s temple. 

Within in seconds of the doctor exiting, Grantaire, Marius and Enjolras were with them, all of them overjoyed by Courfeyrac’s miraculous recovery. Marius sobbed in happiness, clinging onto the side of Courfeyrac that was unclaimed by the mild poet. It was truly a hallmark moment. But of course Courfeyrac had to cut it short with his interest in Grantaire’s love life. “Hey, guys,” He looked to Marius and Jehan who were both embracing him on either side. “I love you both but do you mind if I talk to Enjolras and Grantaire alone for a bit?” Marius was only a little more hesitant than Jehan but they eventually moseyed on out with weak waves and stifled tears. 

The door shutting triggered Courfeyrac to whip his focus in the direction of the powerful, godly leader and his favorite drunkard. “So, you two, what’s going on with that?” He demanded suddenly. Naturally, Enjolras switched into awkward mode and Grantaire looked about ready to punch Courfeyrac into a coma. 

“W-wh-what?” Enjolras stuttered as inelegantly as such a masterpiece could. 

“Courfeyrac,” Grantaire growled. 

“Look, I heard about what happened. So has anything developed post-stabbing?” Courfeyrac was never good at boundaries or one to beat around the bush. The recently official couple just looked at each other stunned for a moment. 

“Um yeah…” Grantaire began still eyeing his new boyfriend. “We’re sorta… well w-we are a couple….now…” The look on Courfeyrac’s dashing face was that of a child on Christmas morning, he was ecstatic, pulling them both into hugs as he eccentrically smooched them on their blushed cheeks. When released, Enjolras backed away into a chair against the opposing wall.

“Ah! Now I can die in peace!” Courfeyrac threw his head back with his eyes rolled into his head. 

“Courf, you’re not going to die….” Grantaire tapped his shoulder to prod him into life. As dramatically as he could, he shot up in bed reaching out with the theatricality he was known for. 

“Oh blessed virgin,” He called for Enjolras. “Come hither! Come hither, I have but one last dying wish!” He cried. Rolling his eyes, Enjolras strode apprehensively toward the bed. The brunette flashed him puppy-eyes and patted the mattress cueing Enjolras to plop down next to him with arms crossed at how idiotic this whole thing was. 

“You’re not dying.” Enjolras groaned. Courfeyrac broke character for a second to wink at the angelic blonde. 

“Oh please! What I need, what I really need is-“ He paused with misty eyes for one long histrionic moment. As if suddenly revived, Courfeyrac gripped Enjolras’s shirt to yank him close enough to stage-whisper into his ear, “Live-Gay-Porn” 

Enjolras hurdled backward, unintentionally ramming into Grantaire. He turned to lock eyes with Grantaire then at once bounced away. “Please, Enjolras!” He shrieked with a weak raspy voice. “All I want is you two on each other, right now, having extremely kinky gay sex.” He clasped his hands together to beg. Enjolras shook his head and stormed out, not in rage but because he was so flustered. Grantaire couldn’t help but laugh a little at this. 

“That was just so perfect. You are an artist, Courf.” He gave him a thumbs-up before chasing after the sexually awkward leader. 

\-----------

It was going to take a lot of negotiation, but Courfeyrac was trying to convince Jehan to leave to bring some stuff to entertain themselves. 

“But I don’t want you to be lonely!” Jehan held onto him even tighter in efforts to stay with him. How could Courfeyrac say no to that face? (And those legs! Mm!) 

“Please! I promise I won’t be lonely! I just want you to grab some of my stuff, and if you’re planning on staying you should probably bring some stuff too.” Courfeyrac gave him the cutest begging face he could. But Jehan wasn’t giving in that easily, no matter how adorable Courfeyrac looked!

“No! I feel bad for leaving you!” Jehan countered crossing his arms to look serious; it would have worked to if he hadn’t started laughing and blushing like mad. “Fine!” He gave in giving Courfeyrac a gentle kiss on the cheek. “What do you want?” 

At that Courfeyrac began rattling off all the things he wanted. “My laptop, some movies, my playboys, lucky charms, my lip balm, dry Ramen, clean clothes, my special shampoo,” Courfeyrac suddenly remembered something “which I’m out of, could you picks up some for me?” Jehan nodded; luckily he knew exactly what kind of shampoo he used. “I also could use something sexy for you to wear, could you wear something sexy for me?” He grinned at the flush spreading across Jehan’s face. “Not that those jeans aren’t totally turning me on, but I’d like to sleep next someone in lingerie while I’m here.” Trying not to giggle, Jehan sprang from the bed and bounded out the door without another word. 

Before he could even have a full minute to revel in making Jehan embarrassed beyond the ability of speech, a little blonde boy sprinted in, sobbing. It was none other than Eponine and Azelma’s little brother, Gavroche in tattered clothes. Even though they really weren’t that close, Gavroche had taken Courfeyrac’s injury very hard, he lunged forward to embrace him with all the love the little boy could muster. 

“I’m so glad you’re alright.” He breathed against his neck. Courfeyrac was puzzled yet happy that Gavroche cared so deeply for him. “I know we aren’t close or nothin. B-but ev’ryone was s-so sad, I was sad that I was- that I-I was not ever gonna get to m-meet you. Ev’ryone really l-likes you, Courf.” Gavroche wiped away the stray tears. 

“It’s okay, I’m here now. We can totally be best pals; I think you will make a killer wing man.” Courfeyrac and Gavroche looked at each other with matching, devilish grins at the impending friendship.

Just then, Azelma, Eponine and Combeferre came through the door, Eponine didn’t look happy that Gavroche had ran ahead, Azelma looked slightly bloated and Combeferre looked exhausted. “Gavroche Thenardier! What did I say about running off?” Eponine scolded deprecatingly. There was no humor in her voice, she was seriously angry; the whole group seemed to be under a grey storm-cloud. Courfeyrac certainly didn’t like the energy change in the room; it went from sexy to sweet to tense. 

“Hey guys! Guess what?” He waited a beat in case they decided to guess “I’m not going to die!” At that the tension and crabbiness of the lot began to slowly dissolve with smirks and stifled snickers. Eponine, the crankiest of them all approached Courfeyrac to give him a hug. 

“You scared me.” She admitted kissing his forehead. “I’m so glad you’re okay, you’ve always been like a brother to me.” Gavroche was a little hurt; she had a brother, a brother she had abandoned when he needed her and took him in, pretending she cared again. He believed Azelma cared about him but Eponine couldn’t make up for leaving them behind, he couldn’t ever fully trust her again. 

The tallest of the party came with Azelma trailing behind him with her arms crossed; she was lacking the usual spark of unconditional love that was always in her eyes. “How do you feel?” Combeferre asked with genuine concern unlike the endless line of nurses who asked for their monthly paycheck. 

“Great for being stabbed. It hurts to move to much but being the center of attention and all you guys worrying about me definitely helps.” He joked. Azelma looked very nervous hiding behind Combeferre but Courfeyrac saw her lip quivering and her eyes welling up. “Zelma?” He requested. All the sudden she burst into tears and pounced. They were hugging with the same passion Gavroche had clung to him with. 

“I know who stabbed you.” She sniffled. Courfeyrac hadn’t really thought about the man in the fashionable clothes who tried to kill him but he was very interested now that she mentioned it. “He c-called me. He th-threatened to k-kill me.” She stuttered out as she shook in his embrace. At last she breathed the word, “Montparnasse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously y'all, I'm having troubles so please help me out.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette is a bit of rebel, Jehan brings Courfeyrac a few things to keep entertained and Marius has a grand time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So I was writing this when my friend told me she had a dream about Marius about to take Cosette's 'V-card' (If you're like me you may not know that means virginity) but they were interrupted by an earthquake. They fell throw the floor and landed on Jehan who was cutting (or already had cut I can't remember) his hair because he decided he's straight. Somehow they ended up in California. That doesn't happen but she almost predicted something that happens in this chapter! It was impressive.

Cosette had always lived a charmed life, a big house, a kind adoptive father, who just so happened to be loaded, all the clothes she could ever want and plenty of love despite the lack of a mother. But today, Cosette couldn’t have been more distraught. She had spent all her time since Christmas crying in her room at her father’s house, she was taking this break up just as bad as Marius. She hadn’t lived until she had met her Marius, the boy with the sweet smile, the dazzling eyes and joy of a child. Marius was the world to her. 

“Cosette?” Valjean, being respectful, knocked lightly on her door before entering. Why do people knock if they’re just going to barge in anyway? I mean what if she was like naked? Between the time he knocked and the time he came in without permission she couldn’t hurry to dress herself. Well it’s a good thing she was fully clothed. 

“Go away!” She turned away from him. The trouble with having such a caring father was he didn’t take ‘go away’ as an answer, he wanted to talk through their differences and resolve the issue. 

“Cosette,” He settled on the foot of her bed. “Please, Eponine just called, she wants to know when you’re coming back to the dorm.” Valjean gently set his hand on her to get some sort of response. 

“Tell her I have lost the will to live!” She bawled pulling her quilt over her head. Valjean didn’t like her talking like that, but understanding; he didn’t question her dramatic self-expression. As politely as you could possible rip a blanket off someone, Valjean uncovered Cosette’s face. Even though at a young age many people consider her homely and she miraculously became attractive, Valjean thought she was always lovely, but her face just couldn’t keep up with her beautiful heart. 

“Cosette, we have to talk about this-“ He paused “Marius.” It was as if he was afraid if he said his name too loud he would be summoned to take his treasure away. 

“You didn’t want to last time.” She snarled bitterly which offended her father to the point of him backing away like a wounded animal. “I already tried to explain, which I shouldn’t have to do, I can’t help that I love him and want to be with him forever. You should be more supportive.” That stung. Jean Valjean had always tried his best to be the most supportive father he could, Cosette telling him he was failing broke his heart. What would Fantine think?

“I’m so sorry you feel that I am not being supportive of your decisions.” Cosette looked half satisfied by that, but her face fell when he said this, “But I can’t be supportive of a mistake. You are far too young to be engaged.” Now she was fuming. 

“I am not even engaged! This is a promise ring!” She screeched twitching her ring finger at him viscously. “This is a God damn promise ring!” Valjean had never heard such language from Cosette, to him she was now tainted; she lost some of her perfection. “I love him!” Tears streaked down her porcelain skin as she turned over to bury her face in her pillow. 

Valjean touched her shoulder tentatively. “My child,” She didn’t respond. “I care for you deeply; I want nothing but the best for you. Please try to understand.” Her mind told her to growl something like, ‘You try to understand!’ but she chose to keep that to herself.   
“I’m sorry.” What had happened to his sweet little girl? What happened to the child who was content staying home and watching home movies with hot cocoa? What happened to the bright but quiet soul that was fulfilled with just having him? He knew - a broken-heart. Worst of all, the broken-heart was his fault. 

“I’m going to Luxembourg; would you like to come with me?” He stood up, seeming to accept this as an adequate apology. Not interested, she shook her head reservedly. “Well, I’ll be leaving in fifteen minutes; there is time to change your mind.” He pressed his aged lips against her forehead gently before leaving her overly girlie bedroom. 

As soon as the door shut behind him, Cosette got on her phone. She selected ‘New Message’ and typed in the recipient’s name, Marius. 

Cosette- Come over in fifteen minutes, I’ll explain when you get here. 

\---------------

It wasn’t long before Jehan returned to Courfeyrac’s room with a laundry basket full of things Courfeyrac had asked for and he decided to pack for himself. Seeing Jehan made Courfeyrac giddy, he reached out and urged him to hurry next to him. 

“Hi sweetie.” Jehan gave him an enchanting grin. 

“Did you bring movies?” He said rummaging through the bin like the child he blatantly was. Then all the sudden he gasped. “No fucking way!” He gripped a specific movie he found under a stack of less interesting film choices. In awe he ogled the movie before whirling it around to show Jehan. Of course the movie that got him so excited was, as expected, The Little Mermaid, his favorite movie. EVER. “Oh my God, I love you, you’re the best person of all time ever, you’re like my favorite person, I just GAH! We belong together!” He exuberantly rang pressing his lips enthusiastically against an unexpecting Jehan. Answering to his exhilaration, Jehan plugged Courfeyrac’s laptop into an outlet before setting it on the bedside tray that he swung it towards them. 

After Jehan popped in the disc and pressed play, Courfeyrac draped his arm around the poet in order to nuzzle up as close as possible to him. Jehan couldn’t help but smiling when he saw how in awe Courfeyrac was, Jehan was one of those rare people who get their happiness out of the joy of others, out of some shouting ‘I got it!’ or seeing someone visibly pleased with themselves. He was one of those rare, those remarkable people who saw people with every perfection, one of those saintly people who are blind to flaws. To him, the world was perfect because of the flowers and not tarnished because of the thorns.

“What about that lingerie you promised me?” Courfeyrac finally seductively whispered. The sudden heat of his breath against his neck alarmed Jehan. 

“Oh that…” he trailed of all coy and jittery. To please his boyfriend, he dug through the laundry basket and looked for what he had packed. “I didn’t have anything…. Sexy…” He said gracelessly. Jehan was unbearably awkward in his own opinion but Courfeyrac loved Jehan’s cuteness. “So I had to buy something at that… vile shop downtown.” He cringed remembering the disgusting sex store he went to in order to satisfy his Courfeyrac. He pulled out a skimpy bit of lace that was supposed to be worn by a woman as panties not even a thong. The lace wasn’t a ravishing red, hot pink or even a color categorized as a sexy color. It was a pale green, a green that was definitely Jehan’s color. Courfeyrac loved it; everything about it screamed Jehan; simple, elegant and not raunchy like something he would have selected. 

“What are you waiting for?” Courfeyrac winked at Jehan. With a characteristically Jehan blush, he scrambled away to the bathroom so he could change without Courfeyrac wolf-whistling. Courfeyrac clasped his hands behind his head and rested on them, obviously delighted with himself. 

At that moment, Marius barged in with a nervous look on his attractive face. The poor boy couldn’t even hold his phone still he was shaking so much. “Courf!” He called fretfully. Courfeyrac sat up with one eyebrow arching upward in suspicion. 

“Marius?” He inquired cautiously. Marius advanced toward the bed with apprehension in his frazzled step. 

“Cosette texted me.” He said with no emotion. Courfeyrac’ grew so excited he paused Little Mermaid and ordered to know exactly what she said. “Come over in fifteen minutes, I’ll explain when you get here.” He read in a quaking voice. Gaping, Courfeyrac clutched Marius’s shoulders. 

“She wants the D!” Courfeyrac shouted with glee. All the sudden, Jehan, in his lacey undies, bashfully opened the bathroom door and strutted with an awkward attitude. 

“Courfeyrac, I know you do but-“ He suddenly stopped speaking when his eye captured the sight of Marius. “Marius!” He exclaimed covering himself in an instant. “I guess you weren’t talking to me.” He nervously slunk back into the bathroom. 

“Jehan, come out, it’s just Marius!” Courfeyrac begged. Both of the timid boys went completely red; Marius had no interest being in the same room as a nearly naked Jehan and Jehan didn’t want Marius near him while he sported lace panties. “Well fine then! I just have to talk to Marius for a second then it will just be us and Ariel.” Courfeyrac called to Jehan. 

“Do you really think she-“ His voice suddenly got quiet and breathy. “The D?” Jehan giggled uncomfortably from the bathroom causing Marius to become a freckled tomato. 

“Um yeah. It’s sorta obvious. You gave her a promise ring, which no offense dude totally scared her off, she broke up with you, she texted you to come over. It’s so a booty call.” Courfeyrac grinned; his little virginal friend was going to have sexy times with the girl of his dreams- and maybe film it for him! Okay probably not film it for him. 

“So I should go over there?” Before Courfeyrac could offer some characteristically goofy response, Jehan piped up from inside the bathroom,

“Yes! And soon! I’m getting cold in here!” He shivered. Courfeyrac beamed at the thought of Jehan cuddling up to him wearing only those perfect green panties and urged Marius to hurry along so he could savor every minute of Jehan being nearly nude. 

“Go get her!” 

____________

Surprisingly enough, Marius had got all his nervous energy out during the car ride to Cosette’s stately mansion. Before he had left, Courfeyrac ripped off a condom from the chain of them hidden in his leathery wallet for him. He could do this; he could have sex with Cossette. He began the trek up the gravel drive to Cosette’s door while he continued to convince himself he could have lose his virginity while taking Cosette’s. There was no doubt he loved her but this was an area he was uncomfortable and unexperienced in. Hell, they haven’t even kissed!

Marius rapped his knuckles against the door as calmly as he could manage. As soon as the knock reverberated through the house, Cosette swung the door open and immediately launched herself at him to give him his first kiss. “Marius!” She squealed happily. Marius responded as naturally as he could – kissing her back. 

His hands traced the slight curve of her hips and crawled up to comb through her soft blonde hair. Soon he had her pressed against the wall as he kissed her relentlessly and she moaned into his mouth. He felt his pants become more uncomfortable and snugger against his swelling cock. There was no turning back now, he wanted her. 

Cosette was shocked by the increasing dampness of her panties, pre-marital sex was not something good girls do, and as everyone knew, Cosette was the quintessential good girl. She felt his boner pressing against her in a less than comfortable way. Maybe if his pants were off…. “We can’t do this here.” Cosette panted in between sloppy yet passionate kisses. In absolute agreement, (anything to get her naked) Marius pulled her toward the stairs, still lips pressed against each other in a fit of desire. The trek up the stairs could have been a quick sprint upward if they could pry themselves of each other.

But that was just not going to happen.

Two lifetimes of suppressed sexual hunger had just been spontaneously released, this was going to happen.

When they reached Cosette’s overly feminine bedroom (which surprisingly reminded Marius of his bedroom at his Granddad’s) Marius pinned her to the quilt comforter and begin leaving a trail of kisses on her exposed neck. Nothing could get in their way of removing each other’s shirts. Bras, like many things, made Marius unbelievably awkward, but this time around he eyed her plain white bra with the same savage craving as a lion would a sickly gazelle.

Pants were next. 

Eager for the festivities to finally begin, Marius drew his belt out of its loops while Cosette shed her skirt with easy grace. Despite their haste, they were still a layer away from being completely naked. Cosette wasn’t sure if she was ready for full nudity just yet so she kept the heated make-out session going for a little longer in order to gain confidence. 

Marius’s fingers brushed the clasp of her bra momentarily. “Take it off.” She murmured, her lips buzzing against Marius’s. Her forwardness alarmed poor Marius. 

“Uh, yeah… um okay.” He sat her up -Totally killing the urgency of the whole ordeal- to thumb at the clasp uncertainly. This carried on for a bit too long. His tongue crept out of his mouth in intense concentration. Another minute ticked by and Marius was still unable to remove her bra. 

“Do you want me to do it?” She reached behind her back only to be swatted away by a now determined Marius. 

“Turn around, I almost got it!” He exclaimed. Cosette rolled her eyes and turned so he could get a better look at that damn clasp. After another long moment of Marius trying to pop the clasp open, Cosette just started laughing. Sure Marius is as virginal as they come but he knew it wasn’t a good sign if a woman laughs at you when you’re trying to undress her. “What?” He blushed. 

“This is so not us!” Cosette giggled as she turned to face him. He couldn’t say he didn’t agree; this was the first time they had kissed, sex was definitely something that would wait until the distance future. The twittering little blonde crouched down to gather their clothes. A casual button-up and some dark wash jeans were returned to Marius along with his belt he was so quick to discard. “We don’t just have sex Marius! We are more of a wait-till-marriage couple.” She was right, looking back on their brief, near sexual encounter, it was silly of them. Marius would rather stare at Cosette in ecstasy than do naughty things. “Besides, I don’t think I’m ready.” At that, Marius freaked out, was he pressuring Cosette? 

“Oh my God! I am so sorry! I promise I didn’t mean to pressure you, I just- I just wanted- ugh! I’m so sorry.” Marius was frantic, the last thing he wanted to do was push Cosette into anything. He could hear Courfeyrac’s voice in his head repeating the words he had said before the group date: ‘Don't be too forward; Cosette doesn't seem like that kind of girl.’ 

All the sudden, Cosette leaned forward to kiss the worried expression off his face. “Sweetie!” She beamed at her freckled boyfriend. “You didn’t pressure me one bit! I initiated everything. Of course I didn’t have sex in mind when I invited you over but I when I saw you- I don’t know I just wanted to show you I still love you.” Marius’s heart fluttered when Cosette told him she loves him. “Besides, my Dad made me break up with you. I didn’t want to.” Cosette slipped on her skirt while Marius buttoned up his shirt clumsily. Noting that Cosette still hadn’t positioned her shirt onto her milky white skin, Marius sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Are you going to put your shirt on?” Marius asked nervously. She thought about it for a second, her eyes whizzing around the room. Finally, she shook her head, causing her loose blonde curls to bobble. 

“No.” Marius was taken aback. “For being such a gentleman,” She took his trembling hands and gently pressed his against her bra so his fingers curled around the soft swell of Cosette’s breasts. She kept her hands on the back of his so he couldn’t retract them in reverence. It was a magical moment. Marius was glad Cosette trusted him enough to let him do this; it was a milestone in their relationship. 

Unexpectedly, the door whipped open. And who appeared in the doorway, walking in on this intimate scene? None other than Jean Valjean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Her dream was pretty close! Well for a dream.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean Valjean reacts to walking in on Marius and Cosette and Grantaire and Enjolras go on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm sorry this took so long. I haven't been feeling myself lately. I started coming out of the closet to my friends and it took a lot out of me so I couldn't bring myself to write for a while. Oh and by the way, I'm bisexual. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter but I haven't been completely happy with any chapter since the Christmas chapter so nothing new. Hopefully you'll enjoy. Please leave me some kudos and comments, I'm having a rough time right now. Thanks for reading and seeing past all the typos...

You can imagine Jean Valjean’s horror when he saw a stranger fondling his precious daughter’s breasts. “What is going on in here!” He bellowed causing Marius to draw back his hands.

“No I will not touch you, Cosette! That is not appropriate touching!” That was low of Marius, pinning the blame on her made Cosette glare at him. This glare was reaching the authority level of Enjolras’s signature ‘cute-blue-eyes-turn-to-daggers’ look. Shaking her head menacingly at Marius, she covered herself with her purpled cardigan that lay rumpled on the fluffy pink rug. 

“Father, please, be rational here!” She knelt on the bed rapidly buttoning up her cardigan. 

“Rational?” He snarled. Jean Valjean had never been one to raise his voice, but lately, Cosette had given him many reasons to do so. “How can I be rational when you are sneaking boys into the house and doing things you are much too young to do?” 

“I’m 19!” She yelped trying to get him to understand. “You don’t own me!” Marius just sat there awkwardly shifting his weight on the bed uneasily. 

“Your little boyfriend is to leave immediately,” Valjean said between his teeth. Marius wasted no time scrambling to his feet and hurrying the door, only tripping twice in anxiety. 

“No! Marius, don’t leave me here! We’ll be parted forever!” When Cosette began to cry tears not of rage but of true, genuine sorrow, Jean Valjean knew this was serious, perhaps she did love this Marius. No amount of pleading could keep Marius around Valjean, he was scary!

“Cosette,” He finally addressed her as calmly as his usual self would. “Do you love him?” The question shocked her. She knew the answer to the question easily, but why would her father care? Either way, she’d never see him again, not after this. Well at least they weren’t having sex. 

Words didn’t come out through the shower of tears, she nodded with a whimper. 

“Then you are allowed to see him.” He said plaintively. At once, Cosette pounced forward to wrap her arms and legs around him in an over exuberant hug. 

“Thank you!” She cried into his shoulder. At that moment the world was perfect, at least for Cosette. Valjean wasn’t so sure, he didn’t want his little girl, the best of his life, to be taken from him.

\--------

Ever since Montparnasse had threatened to kill Azelma, she wasn’t allowed to be alone or stay in one place for extended periods of time. Today she, Gavroche and Combeferre were hanging out at Enjolras’s. Azelma didn’t want to go to Enjolras’s house but Combeferre insisted that Enjolras needed help preparing for his first date with Grantaire. 

“No, that’s too casual.” Enjolras said from his bed. Combeferre, Azelma and Gavroche were digging through his clothes in search of an adequate outfit for Enjolras to wear. Azelma had been holding up a sweater from Enjolras’s closet but when he said that she deflated with a sigh and tossed the sweater carelessly behind her. 

“What about this?” Gavroche presented him with a white, see-through V-neck. Enjolras gave him a look that said ‘Seriously?’

“Do I look like a whore?” He grumbled. Just to be annoying, Gavroche tilted his head side-to-side as if weighing the possibilities. As Enjolras shot him a deadly glare, Combeferre gave Enjolras a ‘Watch it, Enj’ look he was known for. 

“Why don’t we just call Grantaire and ask what he’s wearing? You could do some uber-gay matching shit!” Azelma grinned with false enthusiasm that snapped into a cold scowl. Fortunately, no scornful look could match one of Enjolras’s; he drowned out Azelma’s look with one of his own. She turned away in disgust.   
Combeferre pulled out Enjolras’s favorite charcoal slacks and his ridiculously flamboyant, signature red jacket. “Here, put this on over that shirt you have on there.” He threw the clothes at Enjolras who clamped his hands on them snappily. “And please, stop being so grouchy before Grantaire gets here.” Even though Combeferre was calm and usually understanding of Enjolras’s hot-headedness, he was not tolerant of Enjolras being so irritable, especially when he was a little ticked that he was going on a date. 

“Yeah, get off your period!” Gavroche spat before trotting off behind his tall, auburn haired guardian with Azelma glaring Enjolras down close behind his shaggy little brother. Enjolras flopped down on his bed in exasperation, he hated being ill-tempered, especially with his friends. All his life he had struggled with his temper, when he was six he would not endure people making fun of his childhood lisp so he would boil over with rage and yell at them. At the age of twelve, a girl in is class had a crush on him; when she would annoy him, he would barricade her in a closet after giving her a stern talking to about romance not progressing his causes and no one caring about her lonely soul. During high school, Enjolras would out lecture teachers left and right just because he was pissed. (Well and they were obviously wrong) In fact, he made a substitute teacher cry once. Usually, he could control himself. 

He felt the weight of his red jacket settle on his shoulders as he sighed. Hopefully Grantaire would get him out of this mood. 

\-------------

This was it; all of Grantaire’s life had lead up to this moment. He stood before Enjolras’s door with a bundle of flowers wrapped in plastic. When he let out a final sigh to banish his anxiety, he could see his breath. No turning back now, Grantaire rapped on the door hesitantly as if he were afraid it would bite. 

“Grantaire.” Enjolras said plainly. Grantaire propelled the flowers toward Enjolras without a word. He was too nervous to risk speech. “Thank you.” He mumbled. “Let me put these in some water before we go.” Enjolras walked into the house. “You can come in.” Grantaire gulped but agreed to follow him into the house. 

In the living area, Combeferre sat at the chess table with Gavroche across from him. He was trying to teach Gavroche how to play but he didn’t seem all that interested. Azelma gave him a weak smile as she read a pregnancy book on the couch where he had cuddled with Enjolras a few nights ago. 

Like always, Enjolras’s kitchen was spotless, even with Gavroche and Azelma visiting. Fidgeting, Grantaire took a seat on the stool at the counter. Slowly, Grantaire was gaining confidence, at least enough to be his regular off-beat, self. He leered at the perfect blonde who was holding a vase under the running faucet. “What?” Enjolras finally noticed Grantaire smirking at him. 

“You’re seriously wearing that?” He gestured at Enjolras’s coat. Enjolras self-consciously wrapped his arms around his precious jacket. 

“What’s wrong with my jacket?” Enjolras whimpered defensively. Letting out a hearty laugh, Grantaire shook his head.

“Nothing, you just might be a little cold where we’re going.” At that, Enjolras wondered: where were they going?

\-----------

They hadn’t been driving for long when Grantaire stopped the car they had borrowed from Combeferre; it rocked back in the snow before settling on the powdery white. “Um Grantaire?” Enjolras asked as Grantaire unbuckled his seat belt. 

“Yes?” He simpered. Enjolras gestured wildly to the vast, barren, snow-covered hills there car was facing. 

“We’re in the middle of nowhere!” If he was outside, his voice would echo off the snowy knolls. The thought that Grantaire intended to have a heated make-out session in his car where no one would find them crossed Enjolras’s mind, he thought Grantaire was a little more romantic than that. 

“Actually, we’re at the best sledding hill I have ever found. I used to come here all the time. To this day, I have never seen another person here.” Well that was better; Grantaire was taking Enjolras to his special place. That was nice, right? “Come on, let’s go.” Grantaire hurried out of the car. So there was more than just casually making-out. Enjolras hopped out and immediately regretted wearing his lighter weight red jacket. The cold greeted him in an unfriendly manner like a slap against his marble cheek. 

When Grantaire opened the trunk, Enjolras saw a sled. Just what he feared, sledding in the cold, icky snow. “Sledding? You’re kidding, right?” Beneath a curtain of tangled, black spirals, Grantaire gave Enjolras a wink that really didn’t answer the question. Before Enjolras could protest, Grantaire was racing up the snowy hill with the sled clutched in his hands. Enjolras rolled his eyes but chased after him. 

By the time Enjolras had caught up to Grantaire at the top of the hill, Grantaire was sitting on the back of the sled with his legs spread to allow room for him. Enjolras eyed the spot reserved for him with apprehension; Enjolras had never gone sledding before. All his childhood was growing more attached to countless nannies than to his parents, flying to foreign countries to give his father’s disgustingly successful company publicity and not sledding. 

“You coming?” Grantaire patted the empty spot. With a gulp, Enjolras agreed and climbed onto the sled between Grantaire’s legs. Being close to him was a brilliant experience, not only because he was shivering but because for some reason he was quite attached to the cynic. Without warning, the sled lurched forward. Enjolras curled into Grantaire, snow was hurling every which way causing Enjolras to feel chilled to the bone. He didn’t bother to control his screaming just as Grantaire couldn’t stop his laughter. In between his legs was a flawless boy with coiled golden tresses, who was afraid of careering down a snowy hill, how could he control himself? 

At last they slowed to a stop at the base of the hill with Enjolras clutching Grantaire and yelping profanities at the top of his lungs. “Are you okay?” Grantaire chuckled. If he wasn’t so rattled by the sledding, Enjolras would have left Grantaire’s embrace for laughing at him, but he preferred the safety of his arms. 

“No!” He moaned. “How could you think that was fun?” 

“Because it’s fucking awesome!” Grantaire exclaimed jumping to his feet. The sudden movement triggered Enjolras to fall over onto the snow. 

“Oh my God!” He whined hitting the chilly snow. “I’m so cold!” As much as Grantaire would have liked to scoop Enjolras off the ground and cradle him until he could set him down in the warmth of the car, Grantaire was too frail from substance abuse and general malnourishment to carry Enjolras. Enjolras was by no means fat, he was however very muscular and taller than Grantaire by about three to five inches. At the same time, Enjolras had narrower shoulders and a body that looked to be sculpted by the most artistically brilliant hands the world had ever known. Grantaire was just ‘eh’.

Still, he offered Enjolras his hands to help pull him to his feet. “I told you that you should have worn a warmer jacket.” Enjolras dusted off the snow making his hands go blue.

“Well excuse me for thinking we were going to dinner like a normal date!” Enjolras grumbled. Seeing Grantaire was hurt by that last petty jab, Enjolras recovered spitefully “Sorry.” He hated that he got angry, especially with someone he loved. 

“You’re going to freeze!” Grantaire’s fingers that were coated in dried paint, felt along Enjolras’s frigid body. “You shouldn’t be out here when it’s snowing so hard.” He was right; a sort of blizzard had broken out during their date. “Come on, let’s go to the car.” Enjolras couldn’t disagree with that. With catlike grace, he scampered toward the car with Grantaire snickering at his heels. 

Enjolras reached the door and maliciously rattled the door handle. “Unlock the God damn door!” He demanded, but he wasn’t angry, Grantaire could hear the glimmer of laughter dancing out of his full lips. Grantaire rummaged through his pocket for the keys. Upon finding them, he clicked the button with his thumb that peeked out of his favorite grey, fingerless gloves to unlock the car. Immediately, Enjolras launched himself into the passenger seat. With a chuckle, Grantaire hurried in as well. 

The two spent a few minutes in companionable silence so Enjolras could warm up before the artist cleared his throat to speak. “Sorry I ruined our first date.” He hung his head. “I should have just taken you to dinner or something.” 

Enjolras shook his head. “You didn’t ruin our first date. I did. Besides it’s not over yet.” Grantaire gave him a wicked smile. “It’s pretty bad outside; we should probably just stay here and wait until it clears up.” 

“I saw some blankets in the back. We could lay back there and just stay the night.” If there was one thing Enjolras and Grantaire could do as a couple, it was cuddle. They rushed to the back, folded the chairs back and curled up under a thick layer of miscellaneous blankets found in the back of Combeferre’s car. Under the blankets, their hands were clasped together in a tight union. Enjolras was cuddling up as close to Grantaire as humanly possible while he let the artist lovingly comb through his golden hair. 

Even though at that moment everything was perfect, a very real fear crept into Grantaire’s cynical mind and fell out of his mouth. “What if we can only ever cuddle? What if we can’t do the other relationship stuff.” 

Enjolras froze with fear. Grantaire could be right. They weren’t the best at communication and their date had failed up until they started cuddling. Maybe that’s all they ever could be, cuddle buddies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think guys! I think this chapter sounds like I wrote it when I was irritated or something. I don't think it reflects my best work. Sorry!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few announcements for the gang at the Musain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is a short chapter because I wrote a really long chapter and decided it would be better to spilt it up into a short one and another sort of long one.

Today the group was gathered at the Musain. Stacks of flyers were piled onto the two tables Bahorel had taken the liberty to push together. And just to show off, he did it while Grantaire was passed out on top of one. Enjolras tried to ignore the embarrassing fact that his boyfriend had to be lifted off the table and set in a chair with his head drooping against the table. 

Bossuet and Feuilly sat at the end of the table with a deck of cards playing Slap-Jack, not even pretending to listen to Enjolras’s rant. Combeferre couldn’t have been more focused; he stared at Enjolras as he sipped on his tea. Like usual, Musichetta was absent-mindedly flipping through a lesbian porno- mag in the corner with Gavroche leaning over her shoulder, drooling at each of the girls. It didn’t take long for Eponine to see Gavroche stealing glances at Musichetta’s dirty magazine. Within seconds, she dragged him to the opposite side of the café near the pool table. Not hiding his disappointment, Gavroche climbed up on the pool table and pouted. Azelma was sitting beside Combeferre observing him watch Enjolras. The poor barista was trying to calm down Joly who was having a freak out at the counter because he burnt his tongue on his coffee. And, as you already know, Grantaire was passed out drunk with his beanie clad head pressed against the wood of the table.   
“As you all know, our last rally was not at all successful, Courfeyrac was flirting with the police, Bahorel started a fist fight –again-, Musichetta flashed everyone,” Enjolras’s nose crinkled recalling that scarring incident. “Grantaire vandalized our signs,” More specifically painted penises onto them. “and Joly ended up in the hospital - for reasons he made up.” The group’s valetudinarian returned from the counter just in time for that last remark. He had to admit, Enjolras was right but he couldn’t help it! After all he is a hypochondriac. 

“This time we have to step it up. We are expecting media attention as we will be in a very active part of town near most of the local news stations.” Every once in a while, the team did get media attention and their spokesperson was always the eloquent speaker and leader, Enjolras. 

“To ensure we do succeed, I have compiled a list of people that are not allowed to have a megaphone.” Combeferre took the cue to pass out a stack of lists. “As you may have noticed, Jehan has permission to use the megaphone only if he promises not to recite poetry to the protestors.” Last time Jehan snatched the megaphone, he recited ‘I Carry Your Heart with Me’ by E.E. Cummings until he was blue in the face. “You may notice that I have Marius and Cosette on the list, provided they want to come. They both have rights to megaphones with supervision.” 

Enjolras began to pace, this was not going to end any time soon. “We will be meeting at-“ 

All the sudden, Enjolras was interrupted by a spirited brunette hollering his way through the door into the Musain with his companion Marius at his side. Following closely behind were both of their partners with flowers braided into their long hair. “Courfeyrac is here!” He shouted to announce his arrival. The leader glared him down dangerously; Courfeyrac dismissed this and skipped toward the table. 

“Sometimes I forget which of you four are dating.” Bossuet snorted pointing out that the friendships looked closer than the romantic partnerships. Blushes coloring their faces, Cosette and Jehan quickly scrambled next to their boyfriends. 

“Alrighty guys!” Courfeyrac clasped his hand on Marius’s handsome shoulder. “We have an announcement!” 

In the corner, Musichetta cast aside her porn-mag to cross her fingers and stage whisper, “Orgy! Orgy! Orgy!” A few people giggled, save Enjolras. 

“No,” Cosette spoke like a mother kindly correcting a child. “Go on, Courfeyrac.” 

“It’s really my announcement….” Marius trailed off uncomfortably. 

“Um, did I ask you?” The flamboyant boy teased good-naturedly. “Anyways, Marius’s granddad is trying to buy his love!” Everyone thought he was a little too animated about that. 

“Congratulations?” Bahorel raised an eyebrow at Marius curiously. The stupidity of the news only aggravated Enjolras more, but at least Grantaire had regained consciousness and was frivolously kicking at his feet. 

“He’s offered to-“ Marius amended his statement “Well he has, bought me a house.” 

“And it’s huge!” Courfeyrac roared happily, throwing his arm around Marius. 

“That’s lovely.” Enjolras rolled his glistening sapphire eyes. “Can we get back to business now?” When no one cared, Grantaire smirked at him with a coquettish wink. 

“Wanna go make-out?” He whispered to Enjolras as Courfeyrac went on and on about the grandeur of this mansion Marius had gained. Enjolras scowled at this and fell into his chair, pouting like Gavroche when ripped away from lesbian porn. After all, ranting is Enjolras’s lesbian porn. 

“And the best part,” Courfeyrac motioned to his ‘charming kittens’ (as he called Cosette, Marius and Jehan) to start a drumroll on the tables. The drumroll lasted a little too long and Enjolras glared it to death. “We all get to live there!” Courfeyrac beamed like the child he secretly (read: blatantly) is. 

“That is, if you want to. No one is forcing this onto anyone.” Marius assured. 

“Except me! Everyone must live with me!” Courfeyrac cackled. Most of the group was genuinely excited to live with their friends and, since Marius’s Granddad was paying, have a roof over their heads for free. But a few, Enjolras and Joly, were not as thrilled. 

“Not uh!” Joly shrieked into a paper bag that seemed to appear out of nowhere. “So many bodies is a fire hazard, I’m sure! And what happens if someone catches a cold? Then we’ll catch a cold and next it will be cancer!” Bossuet crooned comforting words into his reddened ears, words that reminded him cancer isn’t contagious. 

For different reasons, Enjolras snubbed the idea of them all living together. As much as he loves all of his friends, Enjolras needs his space to breath, think and work. He couldn’t get nearly as much work done if he was surrounded by all those people all the time. He liked living on his own too much to give it up. “I’m not sure if this is the best idea.” Enjolras chimed in with his professional tone. 

“Enjolras, you are seriously the worst person in the world sometimes!” Courfeyrac theatrically whined, falling into a chair in a way that made him look like he was about to faint. “Living together is going to be the coolest thing ever! Jehan and Cosette can make us food, Grantaire can paint stuff for our walls, we can watch movies all together, Feuilly will have more people to piss and moan to about his shitty job, Eponine and Musichetta will probably end up doing it-“

“What?!” Eponine squawked but Courfeyrac just shrugged. 

“And you will get to cuddle with Grantaire all you want.” Yes, because cuddling is all those two can do. They suck at relationships. But Enjolras did think living with Grantaire would be good for their relationship, it was a big step but they would be with all their friends too. Maybe if they lived together he could help his cynical boyfriend give up alcohol all together. Now he was the only one who was indifferent, (Joly had been swayed by Bossuet) he might as well. 

“Fine. But no one is to bug me while I’m working, understood?” The group groaned at his demand but agreed. Enjolras smiled at his friends, ready to pick up where they had left off. But Azelma stood. 

“While we’re announcing stuff, I have something I want to say.” Trying to get her to sit down and shut up, Eponine tugged on her arm. But she wanted to tell everyone, most of them had probably noticed her bloated stomach. “Some of you may already know this,” Even though she trusted this amazing group so much, this whole thing scared her. “But I think I need to tell everyone.” Combeferre gave her a sympathetic look that motivated her to just get it over with. “I’m pregnant.” The group was too quiet for too long, no one dared move let alone speak! “Please say something.” Telling such painful secrets to friends can make people feel very small, when someone you care about responds poorly or not at all, people feel like they are nothing. 

“Who’s the father?” Courfeyrac asked not minding his manners. To tell him he over stepped his bounds, Jehan swatted his arm just enough to sting. “Too soon?” Courfeyrac inquired sheepishly. 

“No, it’s okay. Montparnasse is the father.” Azelma’s eye didn’t leave Combeferre, she could easily tell him. The others were difficult. Joly was the first to move. He rushed over to her and without warning gave her a hug. 

“It’s going to be alright!” He tried to cheer her up. He stepped out of their embrace. “How are you feeling? Any nausea? What color is your urine?” Joly went on rattling off medical questions for a long while. The group resumed normal activity and abandoned their meeting much to Enjolras’s dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty short, I know. Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve at the Cockpit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this guys! It makes me super happy! I hope you had a lovely New Year's Eve and have an even better year! Happy belated 2014!!!!!

New Year’s Eve is a big deal for Courfeyrac, it was the one night a year he can drag all of his friends to a gay bar and club the night away. Even his straight friends, Feuilly, Combeferre, Bahorel, Marius and Cosette had agreed to go. Azelma was under aged so she was staying behind with Gavroche. The rest of the friends were either gay or bisexual and were eager to party at the Cockpit, even the girls. 

The gang decided it would be best to gather at the Musain at 9pm before they headed to the Cockpit. Somehow Grantaire managed to get Enjolras to wear a purple head band with shimmering letters that read: ‘Happy New Year!’ Enjolras did not seem very happy with that ridiculous thing sitting in his golden hair. 

When everyone arrived, Courfeyrac stood on the table. (And then immediately sat done when the barista yelled at him) “Alright guys! Tonight is going to be frickin’ awesome! But before we leave Jehan wants to recite a poem about New Year’s.” He gestured for Jehan to begin. 

Jehan’s poem may have been heartbreakingly beautiful but no one understood any of it because it was in Hindi. But they still applauded because it was a Jehan poem so it was mostly likely top-notch. Still, Bahorel was a little confused to why I didn’t rhyme. 

“Can I say something?” Feuilly asked 

“Nope! Let’s go!” Courfeyrac chimed

“Well why did Jehan get to recite a poem and I can’t say something?” Feuilly complained. 

“Because I love him, duh!” Courfeyrac snickered at Feuilly who deflated immediately. 

\----------------------------------

9:21pm

The group filed into the Cockpit with varying excitement, ranging from Courfeyrac to Enjolras’s level of exhilaration. The club was a decent size with a dance floor to accommodate the growing clientele of this newly established gay club. The bar had enough flamboyantly patterned stools to allow for the entire group to take a seat. Along with that, there were a few more intimate tables against the wall. Beyond the LED dance floor, there was a stage for the occasional Drag-Show, live musical acts and of course, impromptu pole dancing. 

Grantaire went tunnel-vision on the bar, not only did the specials have funny names but their slogan was: ‘Our wine is extra fruity!’ How could he resist? 

The club was already popping, gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders alike were bouncing around on the dance floor, flirting at the bar and making out in the bathrooms. The team was steadily mingling into the crowd; they dispersed and found their way into different areas of the club. Jehan was living it up, dancing with Courfeyrac who was trying to convince him to pole dance. 

9:28pm

“Come on, Jehan! It’ll be so hot!” Courfeyrac begged his more mature beau. 

“Courf! We’re in public! I can’t just pole dance!” Jehan squeaked shrilly 

“Jehan!” He mimicked which shouldn’t have amused Jehan as much as it did. “We’re in a gay bar! You can just pole dance!” 

\-------------------  
9:36pm

Enjolras glowered at Grantaire from his stool next to him. How he loathed Grantaire’s filthy habits, why did he do this to himself? “Hey, Enj, we’re dating, you’re not supposed to give me the evil eye anymore.” Grantaire shifted awkwardly in his stool with a fresh bottle of booze in hand. 

“Maybe if you weren’t drinking yourself into oblivion, I wouldn’t have to glare at you.” Enjolras scoffed. When Enjolras talked like that, like he was so above everyone, it Grantaire made livid. 

“Look, not all of us are as fucking amazing as you. I’m not good at sports, or smart, or drop-dead-gorgeous. I don’t have rich parents or perfect hair. I’m not happy or brave. I don’t believe in anything. I need something to lean on. I need this.” He took a long drink but it wasn’t as satisfying as he told Enjolras. 

“You have me now.” Enjolras’s beautiful marble hand gripped Grantaire’s. “You can lean on me.” He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t angry, he was serious. He wanted to help. 

“I don’t want to drag you down with me.” Grantaire pulled his hand away and turned so that Enjolras wouldn’t see his eyes well up with tears. “I’m not one of your causes, Enjolras. Don’t feel like you have to save me.” 

“I’m not doing this out of pity,” Enjolras spun Grantaire’s stool around to face him. “I want you to be the best you can be. I love you but I can’t watch you do this to yourself. Being a better boyfriend is my New Year’s resolution.” Grantaire gave him a sassy little glance that said ‘really?’ “Well that and all the social activist stuff you don’t care about.” Grantaire smirked at that. It was true, he didn’t care. “Can you quit drinking for yours?” 

“If it means that much to you, sure, I’ll try.” 

 

\---------------------  
9:47pm

Over at the other end of the bar, Musichetta was absentmindedly playing with her straw, stirring the strong alcohol in a miniature whirlpool as she watched Bossuet fall on the dance floor and Joly worry about his safety. Her heart was broken. Thankfully, she was with friends, Combeferre, Eponine and Feuilly were sitting with her. 

“Musichetta, its New Year’s Eve! Try to stop pining for one night and enjoy yourself!” Eponine was the only one of the three friends near her that knew how much she loved her boys. 

“Pining?” Feuilly queried casually. “Over who?” He looked to Eponine for an answer because she knew Musichetta wasn’t going to spill the beans. Biting her bottom lip, Musichetta cast a glance towards Joly stroking Bossuet’s bald head to comfort him. “Joly or Bossuet?” Feuilly questioned in a hushed tone. 

“Yes.” Musichetta shrugged dejectedly. Feuilly’s eyes grew wide. 

“You’re kidding! Both?” Feuilly fiddled a napkin into a crane as he leaned in, listening keenly. All Musichetta did was nod, still eyeing the two boys. This fuss about her dual crushes made her very uncomfortable. 

“I have to piss.” She grumbled clambering out of her seat as she tried to keep from crying. When she reached the bathroom, her initial reaction was to fall on the tile and bawl like a baby. Several girls passed by her with worried, apologetic expressions plastered on their compassionate faces. Before any of them could crouch down and comfort her, she waved them off. As soon as she was alone she was on her feet wiping her smeared makeup away and replacing it with more heavy eyeliner. 

Just then, someone stumbled into the bathroom. “Musichetta?” He scratched his bald head. It was none other than Bossuet. “Did I come into the wrong bathroom, again?” With an eccentric laugh, Musichetta nodded. He shook his head and started to leave. 

“Wait!” Musichetta grabbed his shoulder. “Stay.” She could feel her heart beat quicken as her fingers felt him. 

“Um, this is the women’s bathroom.” He reminded the sexy brunette whose face contorted into a wicked smile. Without thinking through the possible consequences, Musichetta stroked his face. 

“I miss you.” It took all the courage she could muster but she bounced up to press her luscious red lips against Bossuet’s. Surprisingly, he kissed back. Her tongue crept into his mouth and she tasted a faint flavor of Joly. His hands were on her curvy hips, telling her that he wanted it too. After a long, magical kiss, they released. “I love you.” She admitted. Bossuet’s shocked response didn’t seem like a good sign at first. 

“So I’m not alone in this?” Bossuet sighed in relief. “You’re crazy for me as well?” 

“It’s not just you, it’s Joly too.” She said, ashamed of her passionate feelings. Then it registered. “Wait, we both like each other? Do you still love Joly?” She asked becoming very inquisitive.

He bobbed his head. “Of course, he’s my world. I just- the threesomes- I always wanted it to be more than just fun. I wanted a relationship. One between all three of us.” Musichetta flung herself at him to give him a hug. “But Joly will never go for it. He’s strictly a monogamous. He’ll never want a polyamorous relationship, even if he does love both of us.”

“Maybe we could- you know – have an affair?” She asked in coquettish voice.

“I couldn’t do that to Joly. No matter how strong these feelings are, we have to keep them to ourselves.”

Musichetta pouted. “I’m getting tired of being the friend and keeping my feelings quiet.” 

“I know, but you have to, for Joly’s sake.” Musichetta was choking back soft sobs when she rammed her lips against Bossuet’s zealously. 

“I still love you, maybe one day Joly will come to his senses and we’ll all be together. But until then…” She trailed off and gave him another heated smooch. 

At the moment the door shut behind the two, a stall door creaked open; a skinny little blonde girl slinked out. She had heard the whole thing. This wouldn’t be a problem if she was a stranger but she wasn’t. 

10:00pm

She was Cosette. 

\-------------------

All though he maintained a calm composure on the outside, on the inside, Combeferre was screaming. 

11:16pm

Azelma was driving him crazy! Some little kid was in love with him while he was in love with her older sister. This was quite a predicament, especially with their sexual encounter. While his friends were dancing and having a great time, he was suffering. He should be enjoying himself, he’s with a girl he adores, even his best friend had a boyfriend. 

That was another thing bugging him. Watching Enjolras with Grantaire made his heart ache, he missed his best friend. Even though they had only been dating for a few days, he and Enjolras had already lost touch. He was slowly losing his best friend. 

Worst of all, his girlfriend was off with new-kid-Marius flirting like crazy. He pretends not to notice but he sees the way she looks at him, it’s the way he looks at her. Just last night, Eponine had asked if they could have an open relationship. Of course he couldn’t say no to her, so he promised he’d think about it. 

Time moved unbearably slow. 

11:17pm

“Hey, hot stuff, what’s got you down?” A rough voice came from behind him. He felt an affectionate hand caressing his shoulder tenderly, if only the hand belonged to Eponine. When he revolved around on his stool, he saw a glamorous woman who looked similar to a Barbie doll. She had billowing cotton candy pink hair and glitter coating every visible inch of her curvy body. And honestly, a lot was visible. Something about this woman was unbelievably sexy; she was unlike any girl Combeferre had ever seen. 

“Uhh..” He ogled at the woman with the wispy pink hair. “It’s a few things.” 

“Oh baby, it’s alright you can tell Peaches!” The woman’s voice was in a low seductive purr and her glitzy lips glazed in golden lipstick where just a breath away from his ear. ‘Peaches’ was sort of a strange name but Combeferre didn’t mind. 

“My girlfriend is into another guy, her pregnant little sister is obsessed with me and my best friend is spending all his time with his new boyfriend.” Combeferre complained. 

“Oh honey!” She sympathized dramatically. “You poor thing! Peaches can make you feel better.” She massaged his shoulders saucily making Combeferre’s eyes roll back in his head. 

Peaches was trying to pick him up! No one was watching, Feuilly left him to help Bahorel bet up some perv, Musichetta was parading around the dance floor with Joly and Bossuet and Eponine was, of course, trying to seduce Marius while Cosette tried to get him away. 

“What you say Peaches brings you to the ladies room and we make you feel better?” She kissed his cheek sensitively. It made his toes curl, well, a little more than his toes. 

He stumbled out of chair, this was not him, he had never cheated on anything or anyone before he was with Azelma. But Eponine had asked for an open relationship, this could be his way of saying ‘sure!’   
With that, Peaches led him to the bathroom.

11:21pm

\--------------------

11:26pm

Cosette was getting tired of Eponine flirting with her boyfriend. She was flaunting her breasts, giggling and making dirty jokes by the score. She leaned over to adjust her fishnet stockings giving him a clear shot down her top. While she was done there she glanced at his feet. 

“Wow, Marius, your feet are huge!” She sat up. “You know what they say about guys with big feet.” She smirked. 

“No, actually, I don’t.” Marius looked for her to explain. Cosette was boiling with rage. 

“Well, if you have big feet, it means your-“

“Enough!” Cosette shrieked at Eponine. “You have been flirting with my boyfriend all night! Marius is my boyfriend, not yours! The sooner you figure that throw your head the better!” 

“I can flirt with whoever I want! Besides, he likes me better!” Eponine stuck her tongue out at the fuming blonde. Gasping, Cosette sprung to her feet, which, given her height, really didn’t make much of a difference. 

“You did not just say that!” Eponine hopped off her stool to stand with her. Menacingly, she sauntered over to him, pointing at her with gritted teeth. 

“You wanna go, bitch?” Eponine growled. 

11:31pm

“Chick fight!” Bahorel cheered, raising a mug of foaming beer. The two girls gave him a deadly glare before Eponine propelled forward to attack Cosette. With a thud, Cosette, with Eponine on top of her, hit the floor. Hair was being pulled and shins being kicked, Cosette was periodically letting out screeches while Eponine wailed profanities at the top of her smoke-damaged lungs. Rolling on the floor, Cosette’s dainty little hands began striking Eponine blindly, as seen in a classic girly-girl brawl. 

“Stop!” Marius cried. They instantly separated to beg for his forgiveness. “Cosette is my girlfriend, Eponine. Cosette, Eponine is my best friend that is a girl. I thought you guys were friends.”

“We were! And then she decided to steal my boyfriend!” Cosette shot at Eponine who flinch forward to attack. A cease-fire was called by Marius’s hand gripping her shoulder. 

“Me?” She bellowed in disgust. “I saw him first! He was mine from the beginning!” This all confused Marius, since when was he property of Eponine? They had never dated and he wasn’t aware Eponine thought romantically about him. 

“He’s my boyfriend! You had your chance missy! Now he’s mine!” Cosette barked. Even though Cosette was almost too nice to be real, Eponine had got on her last nerve. “Don’t you already have a boyfriend, you slut?” Cosette jabbed cruelly. 

11:34pm

“Fuck you!” Eponine muttered before leaving her stool to go put elsewhere. 

The whole ordeal left Marius very shaken. “Sweetheart,” Cosette addressed him gently. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I said some hurtful things to Eponine.” He nodded weakly, not daring to look up at her. Noticing Marius’s discomfort, Cosette set her hand on his shoulder tentatively. “I’ll apologize to her later. I think she needs sometime to cool off.” With that, she kissed his cheek and a half smile brightened up his freckled face. 

\------------------

11:37pm

Combeferre walked out of the bathroom awkwardly, like there was something up his ass. Well, actually, a few minutes ago, there was something up his ass. 

You see, Peaches, as feminine as she looked and acted, was biological male. When he imagined his New Year’s Eve, he never thought he would end up in the bathroom stall having gay sex with a drag queen…. And enjoying it. 

Maybe he wasn’t as straight as he thought. 

\-------------------------

11:55pm

The moment was open them; the whole group was on pins and needles awaiting the big moment when a new year began and this one ended.   
11:56pm

During these last few moments of the year, we look at our lives and examine the progress we made over the course of the last year. 

This year was different for Grantaire, usually he would go out and smoke and beat himself over the fact that he is a waste of space. But with the most beautiful person in the world holding his hand, he couldn’t help but smiling. 

Enjolras felt the same way. He was proud of what he had accomplished this year, he made progress in making the world a better place and he got his very first boyfriend (not counting that time he went out with Jehan. 

Even though he was still working like a dog, Feuilly was satisfied. He has the best friends anyone could ask for. 

11:57pm

Combeferre could have been having a better time. Still, he hoped this year would be the year some of his issues got resolved. Not only was he fitting off Azelma, feeling unwanted by his girlfriend and abandoned by his best friend, he was all messed up by his first homosexual experience. All his life he had fought off gay suitors, was this a mistake?

Despite being stabbed, 2013 was a good year in the life of Courfeyrac. He had lots of sex with lots of people in lots of places and in lots of new positions. But best off all, he gained a new friend and the love of his life was by his side at last. 

Marius couldn’t’ve been happier. He had Cosette. That’s all he needs. And Cosette felt just as lucky to be with him. 

11:58pm

Eponine twirled a straw in her fruity little drink as she watched Cosette and Marius adore each other. She was going to be with him if it was the last thing she did!

Being in Courfeyrac’s arms was the best thing ever! Jehan had it decided. He was irrevocably in love with the dashing brunette with the perfect smile and exuberant personality. 2014 was going to be the best year yet, he was moving in with Courfeyrac and all his friends! Too bad his dad didn’t know about Courfeyrac and (since Jehan is a bit afraid of his dad) never would.

Bahorel’s year had come and gone with little change. He was getting tired of not having an interesting life like his friends. But at the same time, he liked not having to worry about stuff like some of them do. 

11:59pm

This year had ended well for Musichetta but she wasn’t expecting much for 2014. Joly was kinky but not into polyamory. 

Part of Bossuet was so glad he was lucky enough to be with Joly but part of him still longed for Musichetta. Joly didn’t think of her as anymore then a friend. 

Anticipation was building, the ball was dropping, everyone was chanting. 

Midnight!

The entire club erupted with a roaring chorus of ‘Happy New Year’ and everyone latched onto their lovers for their passionate New Year’s kiss. Confetti flitted about as Enjolras leaned over and gave Grantaire a sweet smooch as Jehan jumped onto Courfeyrac with his skinny legs wrapping around his slender waist. Bahorel pecked some lonely bisexual girl in the corner. Noticing that Musichetta wasn’t being kissed, Feuilly offered her his lips which she gladly accepted. The hypochondriac bounced up to his toes to kiss Bossuet (who over course got confetti in his eye) and then immediately rubbed chap-stick onto his pink lips. Eponine watched as Marius and Cosette exchanged a chaste kiss, little did she know that Combeferre was looking at her longingly as well. They didn’t kiss that night. 

Maybe next year they would all be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much! Tell me what you think!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azelma helps Ferre vent, Courfeyrac and Jehan advance their relationship and they all move in to Marius's new mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is sort of pointless. I'm attempting to advance the story but I don't want to make any hasty decisions.

In her room, Azelma was folding her clothes into cardboard boxes while Gavroche bounced on her bed casually. She didn’t have a whole lot of possessions and Gavroche had almost none, so packing was a half-day task at very most. A thought crossed her mind while she was setting that floral dress she wore the first time she went to Combeferre’s house. Where was Combeferre? It was unusual for her not to see him throughout her day; they normally were in contact the majority of their day. 

“I’m going to go look for Ferre.” Azelma waddled away to the hall way connecting the rooms. Combeferre’s house was big for a student but size wise, it wasn’t huge. It was two modest stories; the first was a kitchen, living room and bathroom. Upstairs was Combeferre’s room and the spare bedroom he generously donated to the Thenardier kids. In between the rooms, there was a little bathroom. 

It took only walking out of her room to find him; he was in the bathroom with a hand full of pills cupped in his hands. He looked like he was about overdose.   
“Combeferre!” Azelma wailed speeding to the door. Impulsively, Combeferre slammed the door shut and Azelma hurtled against it with a pitchy little whimper. “Open the door!” She yelped banging her fists on the door. 

No answer. 

“Combeferre, please, I just want to help you!” Now she was crying, the love of her life, who by the way didn’t care about her, was about to overdose. 

No answer.

“Please!” Her suddenly shrill voice penetrated through the door she was leaning against. “If you saw me about to overdose, you would rescue me, it’s what you do. But you don’t always need to be the one to save people, you can need help too.” She sobbed. 

She felt the door shift under her until it was creaking open. When the opening was wide enough, she lurched forward to wrap him in a hug. “Ferre!” She squealed in relief. “What the hell are were you thinking?” She scolded gripping his muscular arms. Ashamed, he looked away. 

“I’m just not myself anymore.” He hung his head and Azelma bent down to look him in the eye. 

“I’ve noticed.” As soon as she spoke she turned away to face the mirror. “Eponine’s changed you, she’s hurt you.” He gave a weak nod. “You know what will make you feel better?” She groped his arm and he perked up slightly. “Venting.” 

“No, I couldn’t.” He protested with his hands gesturing against the idea.

“Come on, it’ll feel great.” She promised. 

“I don’t know where to start, I have a few problems.” He trailed off self-consciously.

“Start with whatever is easiest to talk about and go from there.” The cute smile that crept on her face was enough to convince her. 

“First is Eponine.” He sighed. “She doesn’t even like me; she’s just using me for sex. And now she wants an open relationship so she can steal Marius from Cosette.” Azelma pursed her lips and nodded, she know this all along. 

“I’m sorry she doesn’t see you like you see her, I know how you feel.” For a moment they looked at each other with love and then brushed it away in awkwardness. 

“Then there’s Enjolras.” He shrugged. “Ever since he started dating Grantaire, we haven’t talked about anything aside from his boyfriend and we hardly hang out and when we do it’s not how it used to be.” Deciding to sit, Azelma settled on the counter. “I miss my best friend.” 

“Losing friends is hard; of course I never had friends until I met you all.” She reflected sadly.

“That’s not all.” The girl leaned forward, eager to listen. “I don’t think I’m straight anymore.”

\----------------

Jehan and Courfeyrac were the first to show up at Marius’s new mansion, well, aside from Marius and Cosette. Both were cradling bulky cardboard boxes of miscellaneous junk from their place of residence. The house was huge; it had eight bedrooms, four bathrooms and three bedrooms neatly organized among 3 levels plus a basement with a rec room and an attic with a beautiful window overlooking the spacious lot. Of course eight bedrooms and fifteen tenants meant there was going to be some sharing. The plan was to have couples share, Azelma and Gavroche share, Feuilly and Bahorel share and Musichetta would get the smallest bedroom. Naturally, Jehan and Courfeyrac were thrilled to cuddle up together every night. 

“This is going to so perfect!” Jehan enthused unloading his loot and systematically placing the items in their bedroom. Courfeyrac smiled back at him, not doing nearly as well with organizing his stuff. 

“It would be, if we could take a break from unpacking.” Courfeyrac tossed another one of his gaudy accessories aside carelessly. 

“A break?” Jehan stopped folding his beloved pastel pink skinny jeans to ask for more detail. “What do you intend on doing instead?” When Courfeyrac gave him a wink as a reply, Jehan went pink. 

“Maybe we could..” He trailed off to scoot closer to his stunning poet. “Make-out?” He whispered into his ear while petting at his inner thigh. With his lovely green eyes brightened by the offer, Jehan eagerly crashed his lips against Courfeyrac’s. The boys stumbled to their feet not daring to break their smooch. Being the more experienced one, Courfeyrac pushed Jehan onto the bed and crawled on top of him to kiss him intensely. The smaller boy hummed in appreciation, if Courfeyrac’s lips hadn’t been so close to his, the buzz would have come out as a soft, but passionate, moan. 

Practiced hands slipped up Jehan’s shirt effortlessly to feel his smooth back. He could feel his pants getting tighter as he got more and more aroused. Soon, his shirt had been fully removed and added to the mess of things Courfeyrac couldn’t find a home for on the floor. Somehow Courfeyrac’s shirt found its way to the pile as well; both of them were officially half-naked. 

All the sudden, Jehan felt those same hands creeping down his pants. “Courfeyrac.” He said against his boyfriend’s soft lips. Of course Courfeyrac dismissed this as him urging him on. “Courfeyrac.” He said more urgently. “Courfeyrac!”

“What is it?” Courfeyrac inquired lazily, not bothering to stop kissing down his neck and slithering his hands lower and lower into his pants. Jehan fought to free himself. 

“I’m not ready!” He exclaimed. Instantly, the romance and passion was drained from the room. 

“Oh my God.” Courfeyrac tore away from Jehan. “I am such an idiot.” His head fell into his cupped hands. 

“Oh sweetheart!” Jehan scrambled next to him. “It’s okay.” 

“No it’s not! I always do this; I promised myself I wasn’t going to screw this one up with pressuring you into stuff.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, darling. You have needs, I understand that. I want you, Courfeyrac, I promised myself I wasn’t going to screw this one up with being to chaste.” He nestled up to his the brunette. “I love you so much. I just want to take it a bit slower.” Courfeyrac nodded. “I want to be intimate with you. I just think we need to work up to it.”

“How do you want to work up to it?” Embarrassedly, Jehan turned away. 

“I’ve never seen another man naked.” Jehan clued to what he intended on their first step.

“Fine, fine, I’ll show you mine, you’ll show me yours.” Courfeyrac joked. 

“I’m a little too insecure for any nudity.” Jehan admitted. The inquisitive look that spread across Courfeyrac’s charming face gave Jehan the inclination he needed more information. He rolled his eyes. “I’m rather small in the pants.” 

“Oh Jehan, every guy gets insecure, I’m sure you’re at least average. Besides, you don’t have a reference point, you’ve never seen another guy naked.” He reminded him. At this point, the two of them were sitting cross-legged across from each other on their bed. 

“Trust me Courfeyrac, you wouldn’t even feel it.” Poor Jehan was so ashamed. 

“Listen, I love you regardless of how big or small you are down there, I fell in love with you, not your penis.” At that, like all other remarks about penises, Jehan’s face reddened. 

“Lock the door.” Jehan was still not sure about this, but he shook out his nerves by flopping his hands around. When the door was shut and locked, Jehan commanded him again, “Close the blinds.” Like before, he did as he was told. “The lights.” He pointed at the switch, cueing Courfeyrac to flick them off. The sun had just set on, with no lights and the blinds shut, it was nearly impossible to see each other, just how Jehan wanted it. It was just the two of them, Jehan with his shaky breathing and Courfeyrac pretending this wasn’t a big deal. 

“Me first?” Courfeyrac wondered breathily to which Jehan bobbed his head uncertainly. Both of them watched Courfeyrac’s belt whip out of its loops and dance to the ground. A pair of weathered jeans slipped off the brunette’s sassy hips revealing his plaid boxers. In one swift motion, Courfeyrac successfully pulled off his boxers. Jehan ogled at a very naked Courfeyrac, drinking in every inch of him over and over again, so inspired to grab a pen and write all over his brilliant body. 

“You’re dazzling.” Jehan put plainly, approaching his boyfriend cautiously. The poet’s long, narrow fingers stroked Courfeyrac’s flushed cheek and trail down his neck. He caressed his arm in awe of his beauty. 

“Now you’ve seen another man naked.” 

“Not exactly, you’re still wearing socks.” He looked down to examine his neon Seattle Skyline socks. Using his toes to pull them off, he became completely nude. 

“There.” He leered at the smaller boy. “Your turn.” It was going to take all of Jehan’s courage but he wanted to do this, he wanted a physical relationship with Courfeyrac, it would never happen if he couldn’t take his clothes off in front of him. Taking his time, he unbuttoned his skin-tight jeans, making sure that he didn’t accidently yank his underwear down with them. Once the jeans fell to his ankles, he hopped out of them. 

“Would you like to do the honors?” Jehan requested timidly. His smile growing, Courfeyrac advanced, putting his thumbs under the waistband on either side of his lean hips. Gently, Courfeyrac slid his last scrap of clothing down his thin, lightly freckled legs. Now they stood before each other, both entirely undressed. Never had Courfeyrac been so fascinated by another human being before. This is what it must be like Grantaire every time he looks at Enjolras, this must be love. 

Yes, Jehan wasn’t particularly well endowed, but he was proportional to the rest of his small body. Not that size mattered, it was Jehan, he was perfect. 

“You’re beautiful.” Courfeyrac kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with that, the two snuggled up next to each other on the bed, trading lazy kisses and murmurs of admiration. 

\-------------------

Soon enough, the entire team was at the house, piling boxes into their rooms. Everyone was happy, except for Enjolras. 

“What do you mean I have to share a room?” He bellowed at a shaking Marius. “Just because I’m dating Grantaire, doesn’t mean I want to share a room with him!” The poor little boy didn’t know how to respond to the ferocious leader so he shrugged uneasily. 

“Marius, you need to grow a pair, Enjolras is a kitten at heart.” Grantaire tousled Enjolras’s golden curls playfully. Now that they were dating, he had to resist the urge to punish him for his blatant disrespect for his hair. 

In the kitchen, Cosette was preparing a meal for the entire group with Jehan. Cosette was at one side of the counter, preparing a vegetable side dish while Jehan sat on a stool across from her. “So, what were you and Courfeyrac up to when you closed the blinds?” Cosette snickered her bubbly little giggle and made Jehan go completely pink. 

“Cosette!” He squeaked. Clearly, he wasn’t one to be naked with someone and tell. 

“I was outside watering the flowers; I saw you and Courfeyrac in your room. He closed the door, shut the blinds and then it went dark. It seems rather suspicious to me.” Cosette chopped up a carrot with an adorable laugh. 

“Do you really want to know?” Jehan sighed seeing that he might as well tell his best friend, besides, Courfeyrac has probably bragged about it to Grantaire. 

“Tell me everything!” She cast her knife aside and leaned on the counter to listen to Jehan attentively. 

“I saw Courfeyrac naked.” He stated just as little Gavroche skipped into the kitchen.

“What he fuck?” Gavroche crinkled his nose in disgust. The little boy had Cosette snickering again and Jehan burying his face in his hands. “Okay…. Courf told me to colle’t you, he feels left out ‘cause he doesn’t ‘ave a cuddle buddy or somethin’ gay like ‘at.” Gavroche scuttled away with that wonderful boyish attitude which reminded Jehan of Courfeyrac’s undying enthusiasm and youth. 

When Jehan was hesitant to leave, Cosette pushed him out into the living room saying, “Now go out there and get your cuddle on!” 

He entered the room to see them all gathered on the floor. Somehow they had successfully set up the television and an assortment of gaming consoles without anyone being murdered. Bahorel, Bossuet and Grantaire were sitting crisscross-applesauce on the carpet, eyes glued to an intense game of MarioKart while Enjolras scowled at the stupidity of their childish game. Besides, MarioKart doesn’t legalize same-sex marriage! The pregnant teen was perched on a barricade of cardboard boxes, her urchin brother now rejoining her. Like usual, Jehan saw the apparent lust in her eyes as she gawked at Combeferre, who was trying to nuzzle up next to Eponine. But Eponine was doing her best to get closer and closer to Marius. Joly was humming a happy little tune as he disinfected every surface he could justify disinfecting (and some he couldn’t). The person missing was Feuilly who, due to unethical hours, was at work still. 

Jehan settled down next to Courfeyrac who was leaning against the barricade, eyes tired but not lacking their characteristic zest. “Hello.” He pressed his lips delicately against the poet’s forehead. 

“Hi.” Jehan beamed at his lovely boyfriend. 

“Die bitch, die!” Bahorel hollered. 

“Bahorel, you don’t kill people on MarioKart.” Combeferre corrected with a crooked eyebrow. 

“Who says I’m talking about the game?” Bahorel retorted not bothering to avert his eyes from the game or slow down his rapid button pressing. “I can play MarioKart TM however I want!” 

“For the last time, you don’t pronounce the ‘TM’ In MarioKart.” 

“We should all sleep down here.” Musichetta suggested in order to have an opportunity to cuddle with Joly and Bossuet. 

“Now I have to share a room with all of you?” Enjolras complained. Grantaire paused the game so he could engage in the conversation. At that, Bahorel exasperatedly dropped the control and hummed a low growl. 

“Come on, Enj, It’ll be fun!” The cynic scooted next to Enjolras, who pushed him away lightly. “We’ve all had sleepovers before and those were all fun.” He amended his statement, “When you weren’t being terrible and moody.” It’s true, when Enjolras wasn’t moody, everything was more enjoyable

“Fine! But there will be no orgy! No matter how much you beg, Courfeyrac!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. If you have not left Kudos and you are still reading you are in denial of liking this.... Kudos? If you have any ideas or things you'd like to see happen, PLEASE comment. Don't be shy, all prompts welcome and wanted!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone admits their guilty pleasure movie, Combeferre has a confession, Eponine is a bitch and the trash never gets taken out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sorta got an idea from watching reruns of Glee. Remember when that show was funny? I was watching the guilty pleasure episode in like season four where Blaine admits to being in live with his straight best friends, Sam. If only real straight besties reacted so well! Anyways, I'm actually pleasantly surprised with how this chapter turned out. I would like to dedicate this chapter to Sonchek, hopefully I got you hooked! Thanks for the lovely comments everyone! I'd love to know your thoughts!

After Cosette and Jehan served a healthy meal to the other friends - which of course ended in Gavroche burping the ABCs, much to Bahorel's amusement - the team worked together to clean up. Once that was taken care of, they all settled on the floor. 

"You know what we should do?" Courfeyrac began, one of his arms draped around his boyfriend the other providing friendly comfort to a hormonal Azelma. 

"No orgy." Enjolras warned from inbetween his charming pearly white teeth.

"He wasn't going to say that, Enjolras!" Jehan defended his beloved boyfriend. "Right?" He swiveled his head to face Courfeyrac.

"Actually I was," Jehan face-palmed at the immaturity of Courfeyrac. "but I have another idea too!" He exclaimed, bouncing to his feet, leaving Azelma and Jehan on the ground. "Teen Beach Movie!" Courfeyrac cheered. It was a well-known fact that Courfeyrac's not-so-guilty pleasure is and forever be made for TV Disney movies. His latest favorite was the new Disney musical, Teen Beach Movie. Teen Beach Movie is a mediocre musical in which two average surfing teens get trapped in the male teenager's favorite movie-musical, Wetside Story, a pun on the popular, modern musical version of Romeo and Juliet. The duo is sucked into the two rivaling cliques, bikers and surfers. The romantic leads proceed to accidentally fall in love with the visiting teenagers. Along the way, the musical is full of stupid humor and cheesy dance numbers. Clearly, this movie is right up Courfeyrac's alley.

The group collectively groaned. "Honestly, Courfeyrac, a movie can't be a quality movie if if it has movie in the title." Combeferre stated from his position next to a distracted Eponine. 

"Ahem!" Grantaire retorted. "What about the Simpsons Movie?" Enjolras rolled his eyes at Grantaire's lack of sophistication in his taste of movies. 

"I'm not watching Teen Beach Movie with you again!" Enjolras folded his arms across his chest. Like hyenas, Bahorel and Grantaire erupted in laughter. 

"You agreed to watch that with him?" Bahorel howled insensitively at his leader that had a red glow about his flustered cheeks.

"We were having a study date." Courfeyrac batted his eyes at Enjolras just to be a brat. If he wasn't dating Grantaire, Courfeyrac would have kissed the side of Enjolras's burning face. "I turned it on to defuse the tension, he was being pissy." He ruffled Enjolras's curls.

"Have I told you that you're not allowed to touch my hair?" Enjolras glared at the playful brunette. 

"He loved it so much, I couldn't get him back on task until good ole 'Ferre showed up!" 

"Not true!" He growled. "He tied me to the chair with Christmas lights and taped my mouth shut!" 

"You should have saw him, 'Taire! All tied up. He's a sexy little devil." Courfeyrac grinned from ear-to-ear, knowing how much this would irritate Enjolras. He loved making Enjolras livid almost as much as Grantaire. The room filled with a chorus of laughter.

"Shut up!" Enjolras warned his friend. 

"Fine, fine! Sorry Enj!" Courfeyrac retreated to the floor and pulled Jehan onto his lap so he could rebraid his hair over and over again until he mastered the technique. 

"I don't think anyone else likes Teen Beach Movie here, sweetheart." Jehan pressed a kiss against Courfeyrac's temple.

"I like Teen Beach Movie." Marius rose his hand shyly. 

"Surprise, surprise." Bahorel chuckled. "Marius, are you sure you,re straight?." At that, Marius looked very wounded. He nestled up next to Cosette so she could coo sweet nothings into his ear, reassuring his sexual preference. 

"Only because Courfeyrac watches it all the time! I didn't think it'd be good and then it was amazing!" He emphasized his words with air-slashing hand motions and a final twinkle of jazz hands at the end. He hung his head. "I'm so ashamed."

"That's okay, Mar-bear. I still love you!" Cosette beamed at her freckled companion.

"Mar-bear?" Feuilly asked quizzically. "That's adorable, like I won't even tease you it's so cute!" Marius felt a little better at that comment. "It's okay that you like Teen Beach Movie, we all have a guilty pleasure movie!"Everyone eyed Feuilly expectantly for him to reveal his guilty pleasure movie. "Fine. I love Annie." The room burst out into uncontained laughter, well aside from those how never laugh, Combeferre, Enjolras and for some reason Bahorel. In fact, Bahorel, who usually got a good laugh out those kind of things, became defensive and gruff.

"For fucks sake! You know good and well that Feuilly's a God damn orphan! Show some compassion!" That last phrase, no matter how full of force, triggered Eponine to think of a snippet of sung dialogue from her favorite movie ('show some compassion!' 'The world showed no compassion to me!') 

"My guilty pleasure movie is Phantom of the Opera!" Eponine blurted and then cupped her hand over her mouth. The Phantom reminded her of herself, Christine of Marius and Roaul of Cosette. Shamelessly, Jehan began humming the title song from Phantom.

"I love The Switch! Jen Ann is just so amazing!" Joly admitted. He loved that there was not one, but two hypochondriacs starring in that movie. Countless nights were spent watching that movie, snuggled up to Bossuet and then fucking like bunnies on the couch afterwards.

"Just My Luck. It's a horrible but great movie, don't even ask me why." Bossuet shook his head in utter disbelief that he would say that in front of anyone besides Joly.

"Hands down, it's Sleepless in Seattle." Jehan looked so emotional by just the thought of it. "I cry every time. Oh and Forrest Gump. I love Tom Hanks." Courfeyrac pulled him closer to him on his lap to kiss down his neck and collarbone. 

"I'm I the only one who could watch Ms. Doubtfire everyday?" Musichetta giggled uneasily at her guilty pleasure. Ever since she was little and her dad walked out on her mom leaving her to fend for herself against a slew of fake to abusive boyfriend's of her dumbass mother, she longed for a father figure who would stop at no where to spend time with her, even if it meant dressing like an old lady.

"This may sound weird but I really like Gladiator." That dropped some jaws. A sweet, dainty little girl like Cosette enjoying Gladiator? "I just think Russell Crowe is really hot." Everyone was a little more disturbed by that then they should have been, for some reason, that was just nasty. 

"Teen Beach Movie!" Courfeyrac reminded them while nibbling at the nape of Jehan's neck. 

"Days of Wine and Roses is unfortunately mine." Grantaire half smiled with a flavor of sorrow, he truly missed having a bottle in hand at all times.

Azelma sighed "I love any Barbie Movie known to man. It's a problem." Gavroche fell from his spot on the box barricade in crippling laughter that caused his stomach to ache very quickly. "Oh yeah? Well you can't get enough of that Land Before Time shit!" Azelma kicked his ribs gently as a warning. At that, he immediately stopped laughing and a crawl onto the barricade.

"Freaky Friday, but only the one with Lindsey Lohan." Bahorel grumbled with his arms crossed, still mad about them making fun of his best friend. 

Combeferre pushed his glasses up his nose in his completely nerdy yet sexy style. "Although completely idiotic and highly unintelligent, I do indulge in the movie Hot Rod." He waited for everyone to stop teasing him before calmly flipping them off. 

"And you, my great Apollo?" Grantaire asked coquettishly.

"Don't call me that." 

"What's your guilty pleasure movie?" Grantaire persisted.

"None of your business." 

"We all shared ours! C'mon, Enj!" Soon the whole room began to whine and plead like hungry cats impatiently awaiting their MeowMix.

"Fine! Legally Blonde!" Enjolras shouted above the begging which became squeals of delightful giggling. "What? it's a great movie! It proves you can be blonde and pretty while still being a professional." They really shouldn't be mocking him, they all knew Enjolras's godly looks had been a set back to him being taken seriously. He looked young and like a classic brainless blonde, but once you saw his blue eyes become daggers or heard him connect with a crowd like a tremoring hymn, you knew he was someone to take seriously. As long as he had his glare and that presences that demands attention and respect, he would be treated like a professional despite his sex appeal.

\------

Somehow, Courfeyrac had dug out a copy of Legally Blonde from one of the boxes and everyone readily agreed to watch it. Grantaire smirked as he watched Enjolras involuntarily quote the movie under his breath. How did he get so lucky? Bahorel was cuddling with Feuilly because he was still bitter about their response. If anyone made fun of him for nestling up to his best friend, there was going to be hell to pay.

Over by the box barricade, Courfeyrac was playfully trying to convince Jehan to climb into the barricade and make-out with him. Gavroche groaned in disgust at the thought of any couple, gay or straight, intruding in such a sensual manner.

"Hey, Eponine," Combeferre whispered at Eponine who was relentlessly trying to seduce Marius. Coldly, she whipped her head around to glare at him. "Can I talk to you about something? Alone?" He was nervous, Eponine felt bad for him so agreed to leave Marius with Cosette for the time being. He lead her outside to the porch. Rain fell around them but they were safe and dry under the overhang of shingled roof.

"What's up?" The girl asked a bit too casually. 

"I've been thinking," He began unsteadily. Eponine nodded, prompting him to continue. "about what you were suggesting a few nights ago."

Her otherwise lifeless eyes lit up. "You mean the whole open relationship deal?" In honesty, the fact that she was so ridiculously happy was surprising. Who was he kidding? It wasn't surprising! He know all along she was head over heels in love that Marius dope. But it still hurt.

"Yes that."

"And your verdict, cutie?" Using the word cutie was soothing the pain a tad. 

"If it's what you want, I'm on board." Combeferre gulped. "In fact, I've been meaning to tell you I agreed to this a while ago."

Befuddlement took over Eponine's face. "What do you mean?"

"On New Year's Eve, I had sex with someone in the bathroom." He admitted, praying for the best. Even though their's was a toxic relationship, he still didn't want Eponine to get angry and break it off. She pursed her lips and remained very silent. "Are you mad?" He ventured.

She shook her head. "I'll forgive you just this once, you misunderstood." His brow furrowed as a reflex. "When I said an open relationship, I meant I could go off and make Marius fall in love with me and have crazy, kinky sex and you would stay home and read 50 Shades of Grey until I came home and rewarded you for being such a good boy while I was gone." Her voice went mushy, like she was talking to a baby after 'such a good boy'

"That's not fair." He said plaintively. "What if I'm in love with someone else too." 

Eponine scoffed "Oh and who would you be so mad over? My little sister? Cosette's taken and Musichetta's love life is already way too complicated. Besides, even if you were in love with someone, no one could ever feel the same way about you!" She carelessly jabbed. Heaving breathes emanate from Combeferre. "Girls don't like nerds outside of there teacher/school girl fantasies. Especially not nerds like you!" Both of their nostrils were flaring. "I was goodly enough to see past those dorky glasses and your weird relationship with your books. Oh and is it just me, or are as pathetically in love with Enjolras as Grantaire?" If Combeferre wasn't such a nice guy, Eponine would be punched square in the jaw. "You're not desirable, sweetheart. I'm the best you can do. In fact I'm too good for you, that's why if you don't want to die alone, you best agree to let me do what ever I want with who ever I want!" 

"I had sex with Azelma!" At that moment, Musichetta came outside with a full garbage bag of trash accumulated by the movie night's snacks and alcohol free drink selection. 

"I'll come back later." 

\----------

 

The pitter patter of rain couldn't drown out the hardy laughter thundering from the house he was parked in front of. Steam gushed out of his tail pipe as he watched silhouettes glide around the brightness of the wind. A moving truck was poorly parked in the driveway, complete with a nifty carpool loop. Little did his unsuspecting prey know who was lurking in the misty shadows of the night. 

Montparnasse.

He watched as Eponine and the man who had beaten him up to save that little skank Azelma, duke it out on the porch. A girl with a garbage bag that he assumed to be Azelma, made a brief appearance before awkwardly clambering back into the house, garbage bag still in hand. He remembered how Eponine never be pushed around, she was a firecracker. Montparnasse couldn't stand that. So he traded her in for her little sister, the frail, still a child girl who didn't have a backbone and leaned entirely in him after her sister mysteriously ran-off. It was a perfect arrangement for him. No matter what he asked or did, she would leave. 

Well, until he full on raped her. But it wasn't like they had never done consensual touching and even a bit of fingering. On a few occasions he forced he into giving him oral with only some crying on the little slut's   
part. 

With tears of rage and blood curdling screaming, Eponine slapped the tall man in the face. There was an audible 'Fuck you, you God damn pedophile!' and then she thrashed the door open to stomp inside. The well-hidden empathetic side of Montparnasse felt bad for the poor sap, he had no control over 'Ponine. The man chased after her and he wasn't furious, he was desperate. Eponine was horrible to the poor guy, but he deserved it for punching him. 

Moments passed before he saw the girl with the garbage bag scampered out the door. It was only logical that she'd be Azelma, but she looked different. Instead of being a skeleton wrapped in damaged, grimy skin, she was curvy and frankly, sexy. Her hair was thick and corkscrew curly rather than just a ratty mess. She was even taller. 

Dragging the bag behind her, 'Azelma' approached the garbage can, stationed at the curb, next to his beat up car. For a moment, they locked eyes. Azelma's pitiful body had always been made up for by her extremely attractive face, today her face looked different, yet gorgeous. 

Without warning, Montparnasse lunged out his car, knife in hand. He pulled her against him. "Don't make a sound." He growled. She shuddered but didn't struggle. He hurled her into the car, pushing her into the passenger seat. Like a mad man, he jumped into the car and slammed the door shut. He hunched over the wheel and manuevored through traffic erratically until the car skid to stop in front of a shabby town home. "Azelma," He turned to face the frightened girl. "welcome back." 

Too bad he snagged the wrong girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel guilty about being so mean to Combeferre, I don't know why I dump all the drama in the poor kid. And the part about Montparnasse is not me talking so don't be mad at me for hi insensitivity towards Azelma. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! If you haven't left Kudos, what the hell are you doing? i'm just kidding! But seriously, I've given you 21 chapters.... you can press the kudos button (; Thanks again!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feuilly and Bahorel have a little fun, Montparnasse is confused and likes it, Eponine comes to a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Someone how I managed to update this fic. I think Sunday is my new update day. So I wrote this while avoiding football like the plague and watching Little Manhattan. But since I live in Washington, I'm obligated to say: Go Seahawks!

Feuilly woke up surrounded by his family, an army of misfits that called them selves revolutionaries. He was curled up in Bahorel's strong arms, feeling very safe and loved. His father committed suicide when he learned he was going to have a son in high school with his adorable ginger girlfriend. Before he could remember, his mother died in a fire at her parents house. Of course he wished he had parents but he had so many brothers and sisters and whatever Bahorel was in his life. In many ways, that was better. 

Sluggishly, he moved off of Bahorel's lap. It was still night time, Musichetta went to take the garbage out no more than thirty minutes ago. Almost everyone was asleep on the floor, aside from Eponine and Combeferre whose yelling was muffled by the stpries between them. "Where you going, stupid?" Bahorel asked grogily. Feuilly quirked an eyebrow, was Bahorel whining that he was leaving? 

"I can't sleep sitting up." He explained. The pair had been dozing off sitting up right, Bahorel leaning against the box barricade and Feuilly curled up against his bulky chest. 

"Fine!" He grumbled, adjusting so he was laying on the floor. "Now cuddle with me!" Feuilly allowed himself to release a soft chuckle before nuzzling up next his best friend. 

"Everyone's sleeping, you know." Feuilly yawned. 

"Yeah, so what?" Bahorel questioned lazily. 

"We could be pranking instead of gay-ass cuddling!" As much as Bahorel secretly enjoyed gay-ass cuddling, he was always up for a good prank. The boys sprang to their feet and began their work. 

The ginger ran to the kitchen, unwrapped a kitkat and tossed into the microwave while Bahorel pulled cerana wrap over the toilet bowl. Before the microwave sounded, Feuilly turned it off to avoid waking up the crew. He scooped the melty chocolate into the palm of his hand and quickly marched back to the living area. Scanning the room, he selected a victim.

Marius Pontmercy.

Poor kid was laying on his flat stomach when Feuilly carefully tugged at the waist band of his pants, revealing a pale ass with subtle freckles. Gently, Feuilly smeared the goop onto his friends butt. 

"Oh Courfeyrac!" He moaned to Bahorel's delight. Feuilly retracted his hand in disgust and slapped the waistband against Marius's chocalate coated ass. 

Bahorel proceeded to rush up the stairs and return with one of Musichetta's sexiest push-up bras. Feuilly snickered as Bahorel put the bra on Enjolras. 

"Help me tape everyone's feet together." The friends yanked at the roll of duct tape and ripped off a lengthy stretch of sticky tape. Since everyone was under light fleece blankets and their feet were accessible, ot wasn't a challenge to group them up and wrap tape around the various ankles, shins, calves, knees, thighs and feet. Mischevious smiles spreading across their faces, Bahorel and Feuilly counted down from three only mouthing the digits to each other. 

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" They shouted, disturbing the silence. Everyone immediately perked up to begin scrambling, attempting to stand. No one was successful. Enjolras didn't notice the bra until Gavroche started pointing and laughing as he fell over and over again. Oh how that made him go completely red, but not as red as poor Marius who was flustered by what he thought was poop in his pajamas. When Bahorel saw him welling up, he began to feel a little guilty. 

"Calm the fuck down!" Bahorel commanded. All at once, everyone plopped down onto the ground. "There's no fire and that's a KitKat down your undies, Pontmercy." Marius's lips, lined with light freckles, puckered in shock. 

Joly looked around the room as he carefully peeled away to tape that connected his ankle to Bossuet's mid calf and his thigh to Jehan's foot. Anxiously, he did a head count. Three missing. By the yelling echoing through the house, he could tell Eponine was chewing Combeferre out upstairs, but there was still one missing.

"Where's Musichetta?" 

\-------------

"What the fuck?" Musichetta howled. "I'm not Azelma!" The feminine boy eyed her, at first menacingly and then astoundedly. He snarled, punching the steering wheel. "Woah! Calm down! If anyone should be punching shit, it should be me. Some creep just kidnapped me!" 

Montparnasse's initial instinct was to hit the back talking girl, but when he drew back his fist, something shifted. It wasn't a snap like usual, it was more like melting. His steel heart, fenced by barbed wire, locked and rusted by blood of victims, had thumped sympathetically in his chest. 

"I'm freezing, if you're going to kidnap me, the least you can do is get me some hot cocoa and slipper socks." Musichetta unbuckled and stepped out onto a thin layer of ice. Still confused by his change of course, Montparnasse quickly shuffled out of the car. He couldn't let her escape! 

But leaving really wasn't on Musichetta's mind, she was as scrappy as a Thenardier, she could totally take him. He sprinted at her with speed and precision until he reached her and slipped. Thankfully, Musichetta caught him. 

Their eyes met.

Only a moment of eye contact and then he turned away. "Get inside." He spat. 

Nose crinkled, Musichetta pushed him away, "You don't tell me what to do!" She glided across the ice to the door with the broken lock, she barged into the crappy house Montparnasse calls home. 

Usually, Montparnasse doesn't enjoy defiant, independent or even strong women, but something was very different about this girl. She wasn't like Eponine, who was submissive with a bothersome attitude, always fighting for dominance but in the end could be pushed around for the sake of protection. That wasn't case with this new girl. She was a ferocious lioness, sexy, demanding, strong and protective. 

"Where's my cocoa, pretty boy?" Musichetta flopped on the tattered couch and turned on the TV. 

Montparnasse narrowed his eyes at her, to which she smirked at while batting her lucious eyelashes. Grumbling and muttering prophanities, Montparnasse stalked off into then outdated kitchen. 

Nothing on TV was satisfying to the girl with spiraling, frizzy curls, so she popped in some girl on girl porn.

Montparnasse nearly dropped the hot cocoa when he saw where the blonde girl on the screen had her tongue. "Look bitch, you may have this whole 'Independent Women' shit, but I'm the boss around here, and you can't just-"

 

"Zip it. First of all, you don't call me bitch. Ever. Second, being an independent woman is not shit, you're shit. Third, I'm only staying the night because those are some scary ass roads tonight. I intend on having my hot cocoa, watching some cheap lesbian porn, getting in a full eight hours and then you'll drive me home first thing tomorrow." Montparnasse was stunned.

"You really don't understand the concept of being kidnapped, do you?" He glared at the busty girl casually laying in his couch. "You're mine now."

"No, I'm not." She stood right in front of his face, the tips of their noses angrily brushing against eachother. "If I remember correctly, you thought I was Azelma, what do you want with a minor?" The piercing glare faded on his face. "Wait a second!" She exclaimed before shoving him away in disgust. "You're that Montparnasse douche! Oh my God! You stabbed my boy Courfeyrac, you made Eponine's life a living hell, you got her little sister knocked up!" 

Oops. 

By the expression flooding the man's face, Musichetta could tell he didn't know about this. "I'll kill that little bitch!" If he hadn't felt something strange in regards to this girl, he would have killed her too.

"No!" She reached out, hands frantically shimmying like jazz-hands. Ready for the hunt, Montparnasse turned abruptly to stride over to the door. She groped his hand. "Please!" His eyes flickered towards their clasped hands then to the girl then into the distance. "She's just a girl, she's not going to get you into trouble, I promise." As much as it pained him, he couldn't resist her desperate plea. She made his heart beat too fast. He couldn't breathe.

"Fine." He shot between his teeth, spit projecting through his wicked grimace. He jerked back his hand. "Why don't you just go to bed? I'll bring you home tomorrow." Montparnasse jogged up the stairs purposefully, Musichetta trailing behind him, concerned about his mood swings. 

"Um, do you need to talk? You seem- different than I imagined you." What she meant was more complicated, less hardcore. She saw a hidden soft side. A man who wasn't loved enough. 

"No, just go to bed." He stood in his bedroom.

"I expect a bed." She tapped her toe impatiently. "Give me your's, you get the couch." She snapped her fingers and he didn't bother fighting back, he submissively sped out the door.

"Wait." He called from outside the closed door. "I didn't catch your name."

"Musichetta." 

Under his breath he said, "That's beautiful." he added, "You're beautiful." 

\-------------------------------

Mascara was streaking down from Eponine's furious eyes. Combeferre sat on the bed with his head resting in his manly hands. "You're disgusting! You slept with my sister, a minor, while we were dating!" Eponine growled. "I hate you. You don't deserve me!"

"Eponine," He lifted his head from his tear-damp palms. "I'm so sorry. Let me make it up to you." The man approached her cautiously and stroked away the streaming tears rolling down her cheek. Why did he still care for her? After all she had done to him, all she had said, he still wanted her. "I'm in love with you. I may not be much-"

Cutting him of from saying something poetic and beautiful, Eponine snapped back, "You're nothing!" She sobbed. "You're worthless scum. I thought out of all the fucksticks I've dated, you'd be the one to treat me right. I was sure you were a good guy, but I was wrong." Now Combeferre couldn't surpress his emotions, he begin sniffling and stuttered and shaking.

There was knock at the door. "It's me," A bright, young voice rang. "Azelma." The poor girl just came to check up on them, she didn't expect her sister to thrash open the door and yank her in the room by her boney arm. 

"You!" She whipped her onto the floor harshly. "You stupid, backstabbing bitch!" Azelma winced as she hit the floor. Already shivering with tears, Azelma staggered to her feet, only to be shoved back to the ground. "No, stay down! I can't believe I helped you. Is that how you repay me? By fucking with my boyfriend? I should have tossed you back into the streets with Montparnasse where you belong. He's the only man you deserve because you're a ruined little shit who is stupid enough to get herself pregnant and drop out of highshool!"

"You have no right to talk to her like that!" Combeferre spoke up, helping Azelma to her feet. "She had no idea we were dating. What she did, she did because she is deliriously in love, rather like you with Marius." She narrowed her eyes at Combeferre. "If you didn't know he was with Cosette, you'd do the same thing. So don't punish her."

"Fuck you, you ugly ass nerd! I'll do what ever the hell I want!" She pushed Azelma back down. 

"Please, don't take it out on her. She's just a girl!" Combeferre pleaded, removing his glasses to reveal his mournful, mossy, green eyes. Eponine hurtled her fist against his jaw causing a spray of spitty blood to fountain out of his lips. 

"Stop!" Azelma shrieked. "Stop, stop, stop! I did this. I made him have sex with me! He did it so I wouldn't smoke. He was just trying to help." She balled up her fists to wipe away tears. 

"And that makes it so much better?" She crossed her arms over her chest. 

"Yes, because he made us stop. Open your eyes, he loves you even when it hurts. He gives you his whole heart even when you rip his heart out by staring at Marius. You've done so much worse to him than he has done without even touching Marius." It was happening, Azelma was growing up and starting to be able to speak her mind in a confident, assertive tone. Eponine gaped at Azelma, wondering if she had really piped up or if she was dreaming. 

"Combeferre," Eponine said in a composed voice. "As punishment for Azelma's actions, I'm not going to break up with you." 

"How does that punish her?" As soon as the words escaped his lips, he realized why it would make Azelma's heartache. 

Azelma was still very much in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you enjoying so far? Tell me what you think! you know what would be fun? Tell me your favorite ship in the comments below!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Combeferre has a very interesting morning, Bahorel loves the Seahawks and Musichetta is slightly comfused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter but I'm trying to get into the routine of posting on Sundays.

When Combeferre woke up, he lazily rolled over to gaze upon Eponine. She used to be pretty, then her personality deteriorated making her less attractive. They say people look younger when they sleep, Eponine looked angry. He remembered how peaceful Azelma looked in resting, she looked like a child, a child he wanted to cradle and protect from being damaged further by the cruelities of society and the vile people who slummed in the shadowy crevices of the universe. With Eponine, he felt unwanted.

It was that beautiful time of morning when the world is flooded by a pink hue and all you can hear are the soft chirping of birds. Combeferre snuck out from under the covers and tip toed out of the room. From what he could tell, no one else was up and roaming the spacious mansion yet. He ventured on through the rooms, looking through the windows, each scene like a painting from Grantaire's impressive gallery. But then he saw the real form of one of Grantaire's most painted specimens.

Enjolras.

The morning light accentuated his elegant features and long swan-like neck. It's not like he was just noticing how angelically beautiful Enjolras is, he had known since they first met in kindergarten. 

They first met the summer before kindergarten in the garden of the local library. A lovely young lady with gorgeous blonde hair by the name of Fantine was reading aloud to a ring of rosy faces. Her voice shimmered with just the right amount of expression to capture the children's fleeting interests without sounding cheesy to the adults passing by. If the circle of children and Fantine were a clock, Combeferre would be sitting criss-cross applesauce at the 6 and Fantine would be poised at the 12. Next to Fantine, halfway between the 12 and the 1, Enjolras ogled at the brightly colored pictures. Even as a child, his hair was golden, he never went through the bright platnium hair stage that most blondes pass through during their early years. His strong jaw and face structure were very mature for a child, but as his face didn't mature much after, he currently has a youthful face. 

"The end!" Fantine announced cheerfully as she closed the Mulan book. It was one of those books that told the same story as a Disney movie with the same pictures. The group burst into wild applause. "Did you like the story?" She asked the group. 

"I saw that in a movie!" A little boy with a bag of gummy worms murmured with his mouth full of candy. Several kids commented on his remark, telling the reader they too have seen Mulan. 

"I liked the colors, it was pretty." A ginger girl beamed. Combeferre nodded but that wasn't his favorite part.

"I wiked that the hewoine wathz a thwong independent woman who went against gendeoul nowms and theweotypes. It thowed that women awa just as capable ath men." Enjolras had a lisp and couldn't pronounce his Rs so his speech was a little difficult to understand but Combeferre heard each word crystal clear. 

"I liked that too." That was Combeferre's favorite part too. A grin that lacked few of its teeth in the front appeared on Enjolras's bright face. No one else caught that, not even Fantine. 

After the literary circle was dismissed but before the parents filed in to collect the children, Combeferre took his spot on a bench surrounded by shrubberies. Soon, Enjolras joined him. "Hi!" He chirped at Combeferre who had a book open on his lap. "What awa you weading?" He scooted closer to peer over at the open book. 

"Raoul Dahl's Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory." He pushed his glass up the bridge of his nose. 

"Oh!" Gasped Enjolras. "I wike that book, I wike that it thwead povewty awawness." Combeferre didn't speak, only nodded. "You'we quiet, wet'th be fwiendth." That made Combeferre smile with a pink glow blooming on his cheeks. From that day forward, Enjolras and Combeferre were inseperatable. 

Now, not so much. Enjolras didn't pay attention to him anymore. He was far to busy gushing over his new boyfriend to notice his best friend. 

"Ferre." He greeted warmly, seeing him hiding in behind a wall from his post in the kitchen. Like usual, Enjolras was bare foot against the cool wood floor watching the world wake up pensively. 

"Morning, Enjolras." He smiled back. What Eponine had barked at him was true, he was desperately in love with Enjolras. As much as he wanted to be straight, he w as pretty sure he was bisexual.

"What're doing up?" Enjolras approached him. His heart fluttered.

"I couldn't sleep." He sounded half ashamed. 

"Is something bothering you, Combeferre?" He inquired. Enjolras must've been in a good mood today, he never asked Combeferre about personal issues.

Shifting his weight, he began unsteadily. "Lately I've been a little con-" Just then, Grantaire crept out of the shadows. 

"Oi!" He called.

"Morning, 'Taire." Combeferre hadn't seen Enjolras smile so much since he burnt that Napoleon biography. Grantaire pulled his curly hair companion into a loving embrace. "Grantaire!" Enjolras whined. "You know how I feel about this sort of thing." He warned between his luminous grin, his shimmering blue eyes flickering from Combeferre to Grantaire. 

"I know, I know." He sighed. "'Grantaire, you pest, I'm busy!' 'Grantaire, the causes, the causes!' 'Not now, Grantaire, we're in public!'" He mimicked Enjolras melodramatically before nuzzling his lips against Enjolras's exposed neck. 

"Great." He sighed, adjusting his glasses and collapsing onto the couch. Immediately, Grantaire glared at Combeferre. 

"What's up his ass?" He grumbled to his boyfriend. 

"Well I know what's been up yours!" Combeferre muttered thoughtlessly with his mossy green eyes rolling.

"Oh and what the fuck is that suppose to mean?" Menacingly, Grantaire pulled up his dark grey sleeves and prepared for some verbal wounding. But Enjolras wasn't going to let him fight with his best friend, he snagged Grantaire by his wrist. The faint texture of scars on his wrist alarmed Enjolras and he let go immediately. 

"Please, Grantaire." He cautioned. Granataire snarled at Enjolras.

"Tell me, you fucking twat, what is it that has been up my ass?" 

"Oh only Enjolras's di-"

"Fuck you!" Grantaire interrupted. "Don't even talk about Enjolras, this is between me and you, buddy. I'll have you know, you nosy piece of shit, Enjolras is still a perfect virgin because I can control myself, unlike you, you sick pedophile." He jabbed  
maliciously at Combeferre. Having the whole Azelma situation unexpectedly thrown in his face was hard to take. A usually calm and reasonable man fought to keep from exploding.

"Don't call me that. I was trying to help." He was struggling to keep his cool. 

"Oh yeah because fucking a minor really helps situations. Do you realize how much you've messed her up?" Grantaire pushed and pushed Combeferre, hoping to get him to crack. 

"Combeferre," Enjolras questioned. "What is he talking about?" Enjolras's voice was hushed and full of concern. With a smirk, Grantaire wordlessly threatened to blow his secret. 

"Nothing." His eyes flashed into daggers at Grantaire. "This isn't about that."

"Then what is this about?" Enjolras sat beside him, offering his comforting hand to Combeferre's shoulder. 

"You and Grantaire." He pouted.

"Oh, boo who! Grow up and get some real problems!" Granatire interjected, falling into an upholstered chair near the couch.

"You don't deserve him!" He snapped back.

"Grantaire, Combeferre, c'mon! You're acting like children!" Enjolras scolded. Both of the boys deflated. "Now, let's settle this like adults." He clasped his hand expectantly, but neither responded how he would have liked, they just sat there, arms folded, exchanging scornful looks. "Combeferre, what's been bothering you about me and Grantaire?" 

"We never talk anymore, I feel like I'm losing my best friend." Grantaire mimed throwing up in a distasteful manner. Enjolras glared at him to get him to murmur a forced apology. 

"We talk." Enjolras insisted.

"Not like we used to. Now it's all about Grantaire, all the time." He shifted around awkwardly on the couch, unsure of how this conversation would end. It was hard to talk about his feelings with Enjolras because honestly, Enjolras sort of sucks at feelings.

"For fuck's sake! Eponine was right, you're in love with Enjolras!" Grantaire stared at Combeferre, gaping. Everyone in the room was shocked, but no one was as rattled as Enjolras. He waited anxiously for some one to tell him Grantaire was wrong, this couldn't be happening. Combeferre couldn't speak to defend himself, he just oogled at Enjolras hoping words would some how flow through his unhinged jaw. At least Grantaire looked satisfied with himself. 

"What's going on in here?" Azelma walked in on the scene cautiously.

"Nothing!" Combeferre finally growled as he hurried away. He pushed past Azelma without thought. 

The scene stayed frozen for a few more seconds before Azelma and Enjolras jolted to life and chased after Combeferre. "Ferre!" Azelma squealed. "Please, Ferre!" 

Still not guilty, Grantaire relaxed with a crisp porno magazine that had either come from one of Musichetta's or Courfeyrac's various subscriptions. 

Enjolras grabbed Combeferre's hand firmly. "Tell me, is it true?" Azelma was tearful, waiting to have her heart crushed yet again. Combeferre bashfully looked away, dreading the impending sobbing. "Damn it, Ferre!" Enjolras persisted. "Do you love me?" 

"Yes."

\------

Every member of the Les Amis have their own favorite day of the year. For Grantaire it's Enjolras's birthday, for Eponine it's May 22nd, the day she first saw Marius, for Jehan it's a tie between the first day of spring and Black Friday, for Feuilly it's any day he gets off of work. But for Bahorel, it's Superbowl sunday. 

Seems pretty predictable, Bahorel did play football all through high school and he is also just that stereotypical guy who you can easily picture all dressed up in his team colors with his face painted, jumping up and spilling the bowl of Doritos set on his lap each time his team scores. 

As much as he loves his true team, the Cleveland Browns, his second favorite team is in fact the Seahawks. Seattle was where his father lived, so he spent every other weekend there. His two homes also explain his love of Drew Carey and Mackelmore. This year, he was definitely rooting for the Seahawks. 

Most of the gang was piled up in the basement that Bahorel and Cosette had taken the liberty to decorate in Seahawk and Bronco flags, streamers, the whole shabang. On the beanbag in the corner, Courfeyrac was happily kissing Jehan who sat on his lap, humming against his lips. It was borderline neglect the way Eponine was sprawled on an armchair, not bothering to figure out what was up with her boyfriend. Bahorel and Feuilly sat cross-legged on the couch, feverishly explaining the art of football to a very overwhelmed Marius. With Musichetta still missing, Joly was pacing by the foseball table, talking to the police, Bossuet however, was sitting against a wall with his head resting in his palms.

Enjolras, Azelma and Combeferre were having a heartfelt conversation upstairs that Grantaire refused to be apart of. The cynic could be found in the basement, falling of the wagon with some beer.

The pre game show was coming to a long overdue close just as the friends settled around the basement. Cosette anxiously awaited the National Anthem which would be sung by a fellow soprano, the first Opera singer to perform it at the Super Bowl. "Isn't that just beautiful?" Cosette clutched her boyfriend's faintly muscular arm. Everyone else in the room only tolerated the unfamiliar style, except Gavroche and Courfeyrac who melodramatically slashed their hands around to imitate a theatrical Opera singer. 

"Gorgeous." Marius forced. 

Before kick off, Marius decided he and Cosette were going to go upstairs and watch the Puppy Bowl instead. Hoping to seduce the man of her dreams, Eponine followed Marius up the carpeted stairs.

The game began, within the first twelve seconds, Seattle miraculously scored. Feuilly, Bahorel and Grantaire sprung to their feet, cheering hysterically.

Courfeyrac got so bored, he fell asleep with his head resting on Jehan's shoulder. That lasted a good three minutes until Jehan unleashed his inner rabid fan and jumped up to holler at the players. "Jehan!" Courfeyrac moaned. "Let me sleep!" Jehan calmed down and joined his boyfriend on the bean bag after kissing his forehead.

"Sweetie!" He cooed. "You can't fall asleep during the Superbowl!" 

"Yeah but I can't stay awake either, sleeping is really the only other option." He snuggled up against Jehan. 

"Do you want to go upstairs and watch the Puppy Bowl?" Jehan suggested. Courfeyrac pondered that for a moment. 

"Alright, as long as you come with me and we can share a sweater." Jehan liked that idea. They eagerly raced to Jehan's closet to select the gawdiest, over-sized sweater he owned and pulled of there shirts in favor of sharing the ugly- or as Jehan would say, unique -sweater. 

\-----------

"Combeferre," Enjolras began. "you told me you were straight." That was true, up until New Year's Eve, he was sure he was and his crush on Enjolras that had been blossoming for years was purely platonic. That quickie in the stall with the drag queen had changed everything. Now he liked boys and girls. 

"I thought I was." His voice was hoarse as he answered. Azelma sat on the bed with him soothing him by messaging his back and whispering messages of love and reassurance. "But it doesn't even matter how much I love you, you have Grantaire now. I'll just try to get over this so we can get on with our lives." 

Enjolras wasn't happy with that answer. "But if you would have told me-"

"Nothing would have happened, you and Grantaire, in the weirdest way possible, are made for each other." Combeferre interrupted as Azelma adored him with a sad smile. 

"But what if you had told me in high school, before I met Grantaire?" He continued.

"I wouldn't have, I didn't know I loved you then. It's for the better Enjolras, don't worry about me." 

Azelma piped in, "Do you still love Eponine?" If he answered yes, Azelma knew she would cry, he loved someone who didn't care about him when she was right there waiting for him.

"I don't think I can stop." He admitted, not brave enough to face her.  
"I can't believe you'd accept someone who only takes from you when you could have someone willing to give you everything!" Azelma stormed off, leaving two males with very little experience dealing with distraught teenage girls tp wonder what they should do

\-------------------

It was nearly dinnertime and Musichetta was still waiting for Montparnasse to take her home. They spent the entire day bickering, each isolated fight won by Musichetta. "Look pretty boy, I want to go home! You're going to take me there, if you like it or not."

"Bitch, you don't decide when I bring you home, I own you." The two were splitting a pizza on Montparnasse's bed. Musichetta throw a piece of greasy goodness at his face.

"Don't call me a bitch!" She snarled back. As the floppy triangle splattered against Montparnasse's lovely skin, he began to grow redder and redder. He was going to kill her, he was going to throw her on the ground, and kick her and punch her until he beat her to death. But he didn't, he breathed in and breathed out until he cooled down. 

"I'm sorry."

"Wait, what?" Musichetta looked shocked. She just shoved a slice of pizza at him, telling him not to call her a bitch and he apologized? That wasn't very 'montparnassy' of him. 

"I said, I'm sorry." He repeated. "What? Can I not feel bad for you? Am I supposed to be completely heartless? You know I'm not as much of a jerk as everyone thinks I am." Somehow, Montparnasse became very vulnerable and that was a beautiful thing in Musichetta's eyes. "I don't mean to be horrible, I have some anger issues and I grew up with some shitty influences." He reflected on his childhood role model, Thenardier, a professional con man who was the embodiment of evil. He recalled all the crimes he got sucked into and the people he hurt along the way. 

"Everyone makes mistakes." She consoled. "You can always talk to me if you need to." 

"No ones ever been in love with me." He confessed suddenly. "No one has ever said they love me." 

"I'm sorry." She whispered in a trembling tone, punctuated by a sniffle. "I never know that there was more to you." 

"No one is all one thing. There are flaws to all heros and redeeming qualities to every villain." He told her, getting up to leave.

"Azelma, did you love her?" She asked almost frantically to keep him around for a bit longer.

"Her? No. But I thinking I'm falling for someone else right about now." A slow, half smile crept onto his disheartened face as he shuffled out of sight.

And for the first time since she arrived, she wasn't in such a hurry to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you all think? Tell me in the comments or with some kudos!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have Valentine's Day. Courfeyrac makes it his goal to make Jehan's Valentine's day the best ever, Azelma tries to settle some things between 'Taire and 'Ferre (Does that rhyme?), Montparnasse tries to be romantic, Musichetta is a tad harsh, Joly confesses and we have a nice moment to close Valentine's Day off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, hi! I'm trying to get in the habit of adding a chapter every Sunday but La De Dah, it's Monday morning and I FINALLY finished this chapter! I tried to cram a lot of stuff in to this and make it relatively long so you'll forgive me for leaving you for a while. I have dress rehearsal all week and there is absolutely no time to write since I'm not allowed to have electronics in the theatre! Boo who! Sad day. It may be a week or two before my next submission. Sorry! Anyways, enjoy my Valentine's Day drama! I'd like to dedicate this to a reader who commented on the last chapter under the name Shadow Ivy, thank you for commenting!

Remember how every member of the Les Amis have their own favorite day of the year? Well for Courfeyrac, hands down, it's Valentine's day. Unfortunately the majority of his friends loathe this sacred, romantic holiday. 

Enjolras hates any over-commercialized holiday invented by chocolate companies and hallmark to scam people by insisting high calorie, fattening sweets and meaningless cards are romantic. A cynic like Grantaire can not stand a bunch of yuppies dancing around reciting love poems and being all lovey-dovey. Their not fooling anyone, they'll last another week and that's it. Joly is sure Valentine's Day is the number one day of the year for sexually transmitting diseases and Bossuet always forgets about it. Feuilly doesn't care about Valentine's day since he is always working that day anyways. Valentine's day depresses Eponine because she loses hope of ever seducing Marius. Usually, Jehan spends Valentine's day sobbing, jotting down crumby poetry and recalling the painful memory of Combeferre breaking his heart in middle school. This year, after admitting his ever growing love for Enjolras, was going to be a tough Valentine's day for Combeferre.

But this Valentine's day was going to be different for Jehan, Courfeyrac would make sure of it. 

"Good morning, Valentine!" Courfeyrac walked into their shared bedroom with a tray equipped with a scrumptious breakfast. 

"I was wondering where you ran off to earlier!" Just an hour ago, Courfeyrac snuck out of the bedroom, thinking he escaped undetected to go cook for Jehan. But Jehan notices everything, the first flicker of lust blooming in someone's eyes, the first leaf to flutter from its tree in early autumn and even when a child needs some extra nurturing. There was no way he wasn't going to realize his lover crawling out of bed. 

"I made you breakfast." He lifted the tray to show off the delectable meal he had cooked up. 

"Why'd you do that?" Jehan sat up, rubbing his eyes. "You can't cook."

"Oh contraire!" He chirped before setting the tray over Jehan's lap. "I can't cook simple things. I screw up toast, ruin sandwiches and always find a way to burn Top Ramen. But fancy food, I can do." He gestured to plate of fruit and whipped cream filled crepes that were coated with a sprinkling of powdered sugar. To the side, a cup -one with an ornate design painted- filled to the golden rim with Jehan's favorite tea. The meal was presented on a doyly and light stained wood. "So, is this the best Valentine's day ever, yet?" Courfeyrac nuzzled up beside Jehan with a warm smile and began to eat with Jehan.

"Considering I'm not crying, it's starting off better than any of the others." Courfeyrac had heard Jehan's heartbreaking story before and, like most queer people, he could really connect with it. Back in high school, Eponine and Grantaire were living with him thanks to his mother's kindness. It was at that time that he developed a huge crush on one of their mutual friends. Eponine spent a week badgering the poor kid about his sexual preference, she even resorted to trying to convince him that he was in fact a bit queer. Grantaire got involved by sending him gay porn from some email they made up for that specific mission. Courfeyrac was getting hopeful when he noticed the evolution of his jeans. They went from average baggy levis to skinny jeans in two weeks flat. So Courfeyrac decided he would ask out his crush. Like Jehan's experience, this ended in verbal assault from the boy and a harsh rejection.

"I'm sorry boys are cruel." Courfeyrac pressed his soft lips against the silky hair cloaking Jehan's head. "Combeferre is a good guy, you know. He didn't mean to be horrible. I'm glad the two of you ended up friends." Jehan closed his eyes and nodded. Honestly, he was glad he had become Combeferre's friend. Without overcoming the heartbreak, the face of their group today would be very different. Jehan would definitely be out of the picture, that's for sure. "Hey," Courfeyrac remembered something suddenly. "Did I tell you are plans for tomorrow?" 

"We have plans?" Jehan quirked his eyebrows as he sipped his tea. 

"Yeah, my mom wants to meet you, Enjolras and Combeferre. She has it in her head that we're going to have this grand dinner on our plastic dining table with quote 'Her babies' and quote their 'beaus'" Wow, Jehan had never dated anyone before, was this too big of a step? If he was going to meet anyone's family, he would want it to be Courfeyrac's.

"That sounds lovely, darling." Jehan beamed, wiping away a splotch of whipped cream on the corner of Courfeyrac's mouth.

"And when can I meet the great Mr. Prouvaire?" Courfeyrac ventured.

"Um... about that..." He trailed off self-consciously. "My Dad doesn't know about you. He doesn't even know I'm gay." He sheepishly admitted.

"Are you ashamed of me?" Courfeyrac suddenly got defensive.

"No! You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Every moment with you is like a dream. I never thought you'd want me the way I want you." Jehan quickly recovered. "It's just my Dad is very against these sort of things and we have always sort of rubbed each other the wrong way. We don't talk. I can't just come out to him, I couldn't even come out to my friends, my gay friends!" He emphasized. As soon as Jehan's voice began to shutter, Courfeyrac feared that the mild poet might begin to cry.

"Oh Jehan," He cooed wrapping his arms around his lovely partner to comfort him as much as possible. "It's okay. It's okay. I never have to meet the guy if you're not comfortable with it. I love you so much Jehan, I don't want to force you out of the closet." Jehan kissed Courfeyrac square on the mouth.

"Thank you, Valentine." He whispered against Courfeyrac's lips which curved into a bright smile. 

"Now," He pulled away. "Finish up eating, we have classes to get to!"

\--------

Grantaire was just making his way down the stairs when he saw Jehan in some ugly scarf Feuilly had made him with Courfeyrac, hurrying out the door to brave the icy cold in order to make it to their classes on time. 

"Happy Valentine's day, Grantaire!" Jehan chirped before Courfeyrac pulled him outside into the flurrying snow. With his lips pursed into a thin line, Grantaire waved them goodbye.

Enjolras had already long since left for classes, he started class at 7:30 am most mornings, some days even earlier, causing him to rise before the sun. 

It had been nearly three hours since Feuilly had left for work. He had been so kind as to leave Azelma a friendly love note on the counter to brighten her lonely Valentine's day. Eponine had also left for work at the café, leaving without so much as a 'Happy Valentine's day!' to Combeferre. The little boy with the shaggy blonde mop of hair, Gavroche was off wandering the streets he missed so dearly. Most of the students were at there classes leaving Grantaire, Azelma and, unfortunately, Combeferre alone in the huge house.

Since the night Combeferre told Enjolras he loves him, Grantaire and Combeferre have only exchanged deadly glares at opposite ends of the dinner table. They refused to sit in the same room except when Cosette forced them to have a meal with. Enjolras was actually being a great guy about it. He did his best to spend the same amount of time with him as he does with Grantaire so he wouldn't feel ignored. But with all the time Enjolras was devoting to Combeferre, the cynic was afraid they'd fall in love. It was a real possibility, they knew each other so well. Combeferre was made to compliment Enjolras. Grantaire could never compete with Combeferre, beautiful, intelligent, obedient Combeferre. The sensible boy behind the bulky glasses who was just as passionate about causes Grantaire couldn't care less about as Enjolras is, could very likely steal his marble God away.

Azelma was quite literally perched on the couch with her bottom pressing against her ankles, her feet flat against the cushion and her legs folded so her knees jutted out. A scrap of paper that Feuilly scribbled his admiration onto was in between her boney fingers that had plumped up due to her pregnancy. Her giddy smile and chipper aura brighten Grantaire's attitude substantially, he hadn't ever seen her this cheerful ever. But, being Grantaire, he couldn't just stand there and soak in the touching scene, he's a brat after all. 

"I'll just-" He snatched the lined paper from her. "take a look at that." Azelma's initial reaction was to pounce. She violently fought to recover the letter before Grantaire could humiliate her.

"Grantaire!" She squealed, her arms thrashing around wildly. "Please! Give it back!" He held it close to his chest and began reciting it aloud.

"Dearest Azelma Thenairder," He theatrically began. 

"Grantaire! Can it!" Azelma cried with an air of humor in her tone. The giggling and struggle lasted another blissful moment before the room became gloomy. Combeferre, in his light blue sweater, stalked into the room, trying not give away his internal pain. The two instantly stopped, Grantaire let her pull the letter back and clutch it against her swollen chest.

"Good morning." Combeferre murmured as he settled into an armchair with the newspaper. This was very.... interesting, for lack of a better word. Grantaire despised Combeferre, Azelma loved him and yet the two were still best friends. The room radiated tension. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, Combeferre." Azelma said timidly, earning herself a courteous nod from the handsome boy with the brilliant mind. "Aren't you going to say anything?" She spat between her teeth to Grantaire, prompting him to wish Combeferre a happy Valentine's.

"Happy Valentine's Day," At first, Azelma was satisfied. Grantaire was kind and hardly sarcastic. "You sick child molester." He cruelly added. At that, Combeferre sprang to his feet, abandoning his calm demeanor to attack. Grantaire didn't sit around when Combeferre lunged, he curled his fists, ready for the fight. Both swung punches, none colliding with any flesh, just barely missing. 

"Enough!" Azelma barked at last. She pushed between them. "You're going to work this out like adults! Clearly, you're both in love with that Enjolras guy and clearly, you can't both have him. Now, Combeferre, you need to respect that Enjolras and Grantaire are together. And Grantaire, you're being an ass, you don't must call people child molesters, what happened between Combeferre and I was all on me. You guys are supposed to be friends, the fighting needs to end."

Combeferre's head began drooping in shame. "I'm sorry." His voice was a mere shudder. "I mean it. Ever since you started dating Enjolras, I became a total jackass. I promise, I'd never try to sabotage your relationship. I care about you guys too much." Combeferre's sincerity was enough to partially melt Grantaire and reduce a very hormonal Azelma to a pathetic mess of sobbing. 

"Fine!" Grantaire sighed. "Dude, I've been even worse to you. Honestly, it's not your fault you're in love with Enjolras. And I shouldn't have been so harsh or have brought up the whole 'sex-with-a-pregnant-minor' thing. Sorry." Grantaire meant it too. He did feel pretty shitty about everything. Combeferre's life fucking sucks right about now. With Eponine not loving him, Azelma being mad over him and Enjolras not reciprocating his strong feelings, Combeferre didn't need any issues with Grantaire on top of that.

"Hug it out!" She didn't need to ask twice, Combeferre and Grantaire didn't hesitate to wrap their arms around each other and beg for forgiveness.

"It's okay, man. We can be friends again!" Grantaire sounded close to tears. Looking onto the happy scene, Azelma beamed at the boys who she loved so fiercely.

\------

Behind the cash register, a bubbly girl with tight blonde curls who was short, chubby and very busty, waited to assist with the eagerness of a child. Every time a customer would pass by her post, she would lean forward with a bright grin and ask, 'How can I help you?' in her usual sunshiney attitude. When a grumpy yet fashionable young man strode past, the delightful little girl waved at him.

"Hello Sir, I'm Bridget! How can I help you?" She chimed. The man looked almost offended by her offputtingly sunny disposition. He narrowed his eyes to slits with grey-brown leaking through and refused to give a respectful, verbal response. "Sir? Do you need any help finding what ever it is your looking for?" She pressed on. "Are you familiar with our Valentine's Day discount?" 

"Where are the toothbrushes?" He grumbled.

A tad shocked that he wasn't in need of a dozen roses or a box of gourmet chocolates, she directed him to an aisle full of hygiene products. "Here we are! Now, if you need recommendations we have done surveys of our customers that I can quickly-" 

"Yeah, you can pretty much go fuck yourself now." The plump little blonde gasped at the offensive remark. 

"Excuse me?" She squeaked.

"Leave me alone! I'm getting a Valentine's present here!" He waved the girl away so he could select a toothbrush in peace. Once she fluttered away, Montparnasse started the hunt for the ideal toothbrush. They came in every color, them, shape and price. Why was picking a toothbrush so overwhelming? 

"'Parnasse?" A scrappy prepubescent voice wondered aloud. To his right, a scrawny little boy with tattered clothes was snacking on a box of Mike and Ikes he didn't intend on paying for.

"Gavroche." He stated coldly. The two used to be best friends, Montparnasse taught him about the world and treated him like a brother. Then they drifted apart, reconnecting when Gavroche attempted to beat him up when he was threatening his sister. Part of Montparnasse still cared for the little boy he invested so much time into. As much as Gavroche hated to admit it, a portion of him still loved Montparnasse like a brother. "Long time, no see." 

Gavroche nodded, unsure of what to say next. "Do you still want to skin me?" 

"No." He replied a little too quickly. "I'm not as angry as I used to be."

"What changed you?" He continued.

"She did." He answered, snagging a reddish-pink toothbrush before leaving Gavroche to digest that statement.

\--------

"Courfeyrac!" Jehan shot in a whisper. The had an hour long seminar together and Jehan had made the mistake of letting Courfeyrac sit by him. All throughout the class Courfeyrac was trying to steal kisses and trace shapes on his inner thigh. "We're in class!" He reminded his needy boyfriend.

"So? I want to love you everywhere we go, Valentine!" He beamed at the boy with the long dirty blonde braid cascading down his shoulder. 

"And I want to love you everywhere, but I need to be focusing so I can pass this class!" Jehan murmured animatedly. The brunette only smirked, his fingers strolling along his floral pants that appeared to be painted on his slim frame. "Courfeyrac." He warned. 

"Kiss me!" He ordered with the playfulness of a kitten. Rolling his eyes and checking to see if anyone would notice, Jehan pecked Courfeyrac obediently on the lips. "That hardly constitutes as a real kiss!" So, Jehan gave him another kiss that last a half a second longer. The receiver of the kiss quirked his eyebrow as if to ask 'really?' Surrendering, Jehan pushed forward, giving Courfeyrac a strong, rough, steamy kiss. 

"Happy?" He grumbled.

"Not with that attitude!" Courfeyrac quipped, earning himself a weak slap on the wrist. "Fine! Thank you, Valentine, I love you." The two leaned in and pressed there noses together. Neither cared that Grantaire would hate them for being so disgustingly domestic. "So, is this the best Valentine's Day every yet?" 

"Of course, you make everything the best!"

\------

It was no secret Joly loved frozen yogurt, in fact he often bragged about being Froyo's customer of the month three months in a row. Bossuet enjoyed frozen yogurt just as much as the next guy so he decided he'd take Joly out for some good old fashion self-serve frozen yogurt during the afternoon for their Valentine's day date. 

At 2:30pm on the dot (because Joly has a thing about being punctual), Bossuet escorted Joly into Froyo, a long and narrow little shop exploding with a mixture of pastels and bold neon shades. Bossuet's old friend from High school, who had a steady job at Froyo, had helped him out by setting up a romantic, secluded table in the corner with a candle, pink rose pedals and a lacey table cloth. Their usual yogurts were placed on the table in fancy glass bowls, one for Bossuet, a mound of chocolate yogurt loaded with cookie-dough bits, Oreo crumbs, nuts and gummy worms and one for Joly, a simple vanilla yogurt topped with a fine array of fruit. 

Like the gentleman Bossuet tried to be, he pulled out Joly's chair for him. "My good Sir," He gestured to the welcoming old-fashioned chair. With a blush, Joly sat down and allowed his boyfriend to gently push him towards the table.

Joly eyed the frozen yogurt before him. "My favorite!" Joly exclaimed. "You know me so well!" Bossuet chuckled and they both began picking apart their yogurt with the plastic spoons laying on top of formal cloth napkins that were a lovely shade of cotton candy pink. 

For some odd, unknown reason, Bossuet sensed Joly's mood dropping from elated to depression before he could even eat all the chewy gummy worms that were sprinkled onto his yogurt. Joly had been falling in to random bursts of sadness lately and Bossuet knew why. Both of them missed Musichetta dearly. Joly's emotional reactions to her disappearance gave Bossuet hope that he may love her as well which could lead to a polyamorous relationship were she with them.

"Are you thinking of her again?" Bossuet finally questioned as gently as he could as to not upset Joly. Mournfully, Joly nodded, tears gathering in his youth eyes.

"Like always." He sniffled. One of Joly's many quirks is checking his tongue in a mirror he always seemed to have handy, especially when he was close to crying. He pulled out the hand mirror and stuck out his tongue so he could examine it. attempting to continue on the sensitive subject, Bossuet delicately pushed the mirror aside. 

"The police are doing all they can to find her, have faith they'll bring her to us." Bossuet advised.

"I know they're trying their best, but I just-" He paused, he didn't want to say to much. 

"You just what?" Bossuet's heart was pounding. Was this it? Did Joly have feelings for Musichetta too? Could they all be together at last? Could he finally admit he kissed her in the bathroom on New Year's eve?

"Nothing. It doesn't matter." His eyes flickered away and rested on the frozen yogurt, he couldn't even maintain eye contact with Bossuet. 

"Joly, please, you know you can tell me anything." Bossuet set his hand on Joly's as he recovered from an intense brain freeze. 

"Okay, just promise you won't get mad." Joly extended his pinky nervously. They linked pinkies briefly and Joly spilled. "I'm in love with Musichetta!" He covered his mouth immediately. 

"Thank God!" Bossuet stood. "I do too, and I happen to know she feels the same way about us." Joly flew out of his chair and launched himself at Bossuet to embrace him. 

"I love you." He sobbed into his chest. "We're made for each other, all three of us!"

\-----

Keeping entertained while cooped up in Montparnasse's pitiful shack was a struggle. Musichetta's days consisted of hours of porn, reading whatever she could find and picking over Montparnasse's extensive wardrobe. When Montparnasse was home, they'd fight, she'd win and they'd passively make up only to repeat the cycle. You may find it odd that with all the time Montparnasse spent outside of the house, Musichetta hadn't simple escaped, but she didn't feel in danger so she stayed. Besides, it was good to be free from the drama destroying her house. 

The front door unlocked, Musichetta perked up from her slouching on the couch as she glared at some gay porn menu she was to lazy to press play on. Montparnasse had arrived home. 

"Here." He threw a black leather dress that would clearly fit snuggly, accentuating her curves. "Put this on and meet me in the kitchen in 10 minutes." At first, she wanted to fight back, but instead, she took the dress and went upstairs. 

This whole time, Musichetta had been sharing Montparnasse's bedroom with him. They slept in the same bed, either curled up, not facing each other because they were angry or nuzzled up next to each other because they had just made up. She shimmied her way into the form fitting dress. Once she zipped herself up, she admired the way it flattered her figure. She had 10 minutes to kill so she checked herself out thoroughly. 

After her allotted time ran out, she swaggered out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen. Montparnasse looked very nervous, he held a small box wrapped in a shiny red paper and topped with a white bow. Usually his dressing was exponentially dapper, but somehow, he managed to look even more classy in a styling suit. "What's all this?" Musichetta tried to fight off a smile.

"Happy Valentine's Day." He handed her the wrapped box. Reluctantly, she took off the cover and tugged away the tissue paper to reveal something so unimaginably beautiful, a toothbrush. 

"Oh my God! Thank you!" She latched herself onto his narrow body. Since she got there, she had to share a toothbrush with Montparnasse which Joly would kill her for doing. But now, she had received the best gift of all time ever, her very own, brand-spanking-new toothbrush. "This is basically the best gift anyone has every gave me!" She hadn't let go of her captor, Montparnasse was feeling all warm and fuzzy! This girl was going to be the death of Montparnasse, he never thought he could feel something so strong so suddenly. 

"I was wondering, since we're going to be living together for quite sometime-"

"Wait, what?" Musichetta interrupted the heartfelt speech he took so long to prepare. "You're fucking kidding me! Why do you even want me here? I don't get it! What's your motive? Oh that's right, you're just some disgusting perv who is so screwed up that you think it's acceptable for you to take someone captive! Guess what? One of these days, I'm going to get out of here, but you're stuck! You're always going to be here, wallowing in your crimes. I don't care how-" She suddenly cooled down with a gulp. "Sexy or dangerous or thrilling-" She heated up again, back in rage. "You are, you're scum! You've killed, you've raped, you've kidnapped! You're condemned on earth and damned to Hell." Musichetta throw the box at him and stormed of in a fit of intensity. On contact with Montparnasse's high-maintenance skin, the toothbrush fell out the of the box along with a bottom layer of tissue paper. The box hit the floor, but the air caught a thin piece of purple paper and allowed it to slowly float down, dancing towards Montparnasse's polished dress shoes. The note landed on the toe of his shoe. Montparnasse looked down upon the note and as a silvery tear dripped down onto the paper, the traumatized man who was hardly anything more than a boy, scared and alone in the world, read the loopy cursive to himself in a quivering voice. 

"Be mine?" And the question mark was dotted with a heart.

\-----------

Another day almost over, Combeferre was almost asleep in his otherwise empty bed. He was tired of being lonely and having a girlfriend at the same time. Relationships are supposed to remedy solitude and fill you with love, not take all your good feelings away. Eponine was out, probably having sex with other men.

He was nearly asleep, his eyes heavy and breathing steadying when there was a timid knock at the door. The soft sound of shy knuckles rapping on the door caused Combeferre to sluggishly sit up and flick his nightlight on. "Come in." He said in his groggy, just-woken-up voice. His voice was alarmingly hoarse and sounded almost layered with it's scratchiness. 

Every so leisurely, the door creaked open and a face glistening with youth and a sweet sort of naivety that Combeferre adored, popped out from behind the door. "Are you awake?" Azelma asked cautiously.

"As awake as possible for-" He glanced at the clock. "9:30, wow I'm pathetic!" He grumbled.

"You've gotta feel this." She insisted, her palms curving around her pregnant belly. "The baby, it's kicking!" She whispered excitedly. Combeferre reached out to Azelma's stomach automatically. It was as delicate as the relaxed rhythm of a butterfly fluttering it's wings in resting. The sensation of a baby's weak kicking was unlike any other. He felt it match his pulse and he couldn't help but gap in awe. 

"That's amazing." He breathed as to not disturb the baby. The radiant teenager beamed, casting her eyes towards Combeferre's masculine but gentle hand. The gesture reminded her of when he first touched her. How his hand settled onto her wrist reassuringly that first day she came to the Musain with her sister. 

"You know she's no good for you, right?" Azelma questioned. The man nodded without hesitation. "You know I'll never get over you?" Again he nodded. "It's still Valentine's day." She whispered to which he nodded once more to. "Do you really want to be alone?" That's when he shook his head instead. "So I should stay?" As much as it pained him, he shook his head. Her lips pursed. "Okay, good night, Combeferre." Before she left, she leaned in and kissed Combeferre's cheek. 

"Good night, Azelma." He added sadly as she closed the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this, I really hope you enjoyed this addition. Don't forget to leave kudos and comments before you go! I hope you all had a lovely Valentine's day, I had 27 Valentines because you know, I'm lovable! I'll see you a little later than I would like :( If you have any suggestions, prompts, tips or questions, PLEASE comment below! And if you get bored while I'm gone (which I doubt) you can read the smut I was FORCED to write called Courfeyrac's Sex Ed. Or you know, whatever. Thanks again for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras never sleeps, we met Courfeyrac's parents, Jehan uses his body as a reward and Combeferre's world is rattled even further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a while. Sorry! I have been so busy with shows and rehearsals and GAH! Please tell me what you think in the comments.

Up in the attic, the light was dim, the night was late and yet, Enjolras was still working feverishly, alternating between typing and scribbling on a notepad. Ever since he was little, he insisted he didn't need sleep; he needed to make steady progress and if that interfered with resting, so be it. 

The door opening didn't disturb Enjolras from his task. "Enjolras?" Combeferre ventured meekly. "Enjolras, what're you doing still up? It's nearly 3am!" Combeferre had always had a way of watching out for Enjolras, it was his responsibility to keep him grounded and remind him that even he needs to eat the occasional meal and somehow manage to put him to bed every once in a while.

"I just have to do a few more things before I can sleep. I'll go straight to bed when I'm done, promise!" He looked over his shoulder at Combeferre as his fingers clattered on the keyboard. 

"You have a class in less than four hours! I'll bring you to bed." He offered but Enjolras only shook his head rapidly. 

"No, no, I can't! I have to finish then I'll get at least two hours of sleep before class." Enjolras took a long swig of his caffeine rich coffee. Rolling his eyes, Combeferre stalked over to Enjolras's desk and snatched his steaming mug of coffee. 

"We've discussed this, Enjolras." He set the coffee on a bookshelf on the other side of the room. "No caffeine past dinner! You need rest." Combeferre insisted. Enjolras knew Combeferre was right, he was getting pretty drowsy.

"Five more minutes." Enjolras yawned.

"Now, Enjolras." Combeferre warned delicately. The speed of Enjolras's work slowed to a snail's pace as gradually as it could in 15 seconds. His eyes began sagging and shutting. Before Enjolras could comply, he passed out on his keyboard. 

A smile replaced Combeferre's dominant expression while he gazed at Enjolras who looked so innocent and young in resting. He pulled back the chair so he could scoop up the angelic boy. Enjolras was a tall man with a frail frame that was finished with faint muscles; he had a masculine enough body that at some angles had the soft curves of a woman's. His body was indescribable except by his name. Carefully, he turned out the light, saved his documents, powered down the laptop and organized his papers.

Combeferre cradled him, draping the boy's arms around his neck and somehow getting his legs to wrap around his waist for - you know - safety purposes...

The doorknob was a struggle but with a bit of creativity, he popped the door open and carried Enjolras out. The next challenge was the stairs. Taking his precious time, Combeferre scaled down the steps, keeping a firm grip on the man he was holding.

He missed this. He missed spending time with Enjolras and being his care taker from time to time. Soon enough, they arrived to his room. Grantaire was nowhere to be found.

The comforter puckered around Enjolras's outline when Combeferre set him down cautiously as to not wake him. For a moment, Combeferre just drank in the sight of him, this man who was exceptionally charismatic with a hidden severity that burst forth at random, only to be tamed by his best friend and second in command, Combeferre.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Enjolras winced with his eyes still relaxed and closed. 

"I thought you were already in bed." Combeferre said in his own defense. 

"No, not about that!" He corrected. "About you being in love with me."

"I told you before; it wouldn't have made a difference. The only one of us three in high school that knew he was gay was Jehan. I didn't know and I'm pretty sure you had no sex drive what so ever." Combeferre didn't feel right about talking about his feelings to a taken man, especially when that man was taken by a very jealous cynic. 

"You don't know that." Enjolras pulled the sheets pooling at the foot of his bed to cover his icy, overworked body. 

"What're you saying?" Combeferre was getting hopeful; this was not a good thing.

"Sometime towards the end of sophomore year, when we used to hide in the library way past closing so we could study as late as we wanted to," Those were his best memories of high school. Combeferre remembered sneaking around during the library's final security check. They would crawl in the shadows of the shelves, helping each other stay hidden. When Jehan tagged along, he was the best hider, mostly because he was tiny and swift. Usually, the night would end with the boys fashioning a nest of beanbags, pillows and blankets, then they would curl up next to each as Jehan tried to get a decent amount of spooning from either one of his friends. Each of those nights were full of laughter, literature and Enjolras, Combeferre's favorite things. "We had stayed at the Library that night with Jehan. After he fell asleep, we started whispering to each other about marriage equality. I told you I was celibate, possibly asexual. What I didn't tell you was I still had romantic feelings for you, buried deep down."

Combeferre was agog. His mouth fell open and yet he couldn't manage to inhale. "Don't say that, you don't have to make me feel better." 

"It's true! And if you would have told me, I can't help but think that when my boyfriend kisses me, I wouldn't taste alcohol." Enjolras admitted in a grave tone. That was Enjolras confessing that they would have dated if he had known.   
"Did Grantaire fall off the wagon?" Combeferre looked concerned.

"Yes and no." Enjolras itched his sleepy eyes. "Some days he's very sober and does a good job and other days he slips. I'm still proud of him since he is getting better. I just wish I didn't feel stuck." 

"Stuck?"

"I love him and I like feeling needed, but I fear if our relationship ends, he would to. He would self-destruct; I would be responsible for his death." Enjolras turned away. "I want to help, but I don't know how."

"That's a lie." Combeferre sounded suddenly stern. "You know for a fact Grantaire has issues that are beyond your help. You don't need to save everyone. You're making Grantaire a better person, but if it doesn't pan out, it's not your fault." He rolled Enjolras over to face him. "You are wonderful; don't let him drag you down." But Enjolras was already asleep, dreaming about world peace. Pressing his smiling lips to Enjolras's forehead, Combeferre said good night to the golden boy. 

He tiptoed away, passing by a shadowy figure his bliss ignored. When Combeferre traveled down the stairs, out of sight, the figure emerge with narrowed eyes that soften to a mournful expression.

"Drag him down?" Grantaire wiped away a stray stream of water from his eye. He had heard it all.

\-----

Courfeyrac parked his car in that familiar spot where his father's pickup truck used to rest after a long day. He remembered during the summer, he, Grantaire and Eponine would lie in the bed of the truck and look at the stars until someone would fall asleep. This home was the backdrop of his entire childhood. "You ready?" He gave Jehan's hand a reassuring squeeze. The poet was always nervous about meeting new people, and when he did, he got real rambly and excitable.

"As I'll ever be." He gulped. For some reason, he couldn't get his braid to lay right on his shoulder and his sweater was looking oddly bunchy today. He adjusted himself anxiously.

"Jehan, you're absolutely and undeniably the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Stop worrying about how you look so much, it's just nerves. Besides, even if you weren't as lovely as you are, you'd make up for it in heart. You're gorgeous inside and out." That was just the positive reinforcement Jehan needed to face Courfeyrac's mother and father. The pair kissed chastely before walking hand-in-hand to the door. 

Courfeyrac didn't bother knocking; he pulled open the rattling door of the beat up rancher. His house was no gem. Outside, the plants were infested with weeds and thriving to the point of being overgrown. There were a few lawn gnomes scattered in the unruly mess, some missing ceramic limbs, others with chipped faces. The bird bath by the porch had seen better days, the grass was all yellowed and dry, there was porch swing that looked about ready to fall apart, the stairs to the porch were uneven and ear-splittingly creaky and the Home Sweet Home sign above the door was held up by one nail in the upper left corner while the bottom right side drooped and rested on the door frame. Yet Courfeyrac that it was a palace. He was so proud to have grown up in this house and to have made memories and lifelong best friends between the walls with the fraying paint and the ceilings with the cracks and dusty ceiling fans. 

The inside was a little nicer due to the welcoming smell of fresh-baked cookies wafting out from the kitchen. The living room was in shambles; the lazy chair, which had a permanent ass print, stained in sweat on it, was bursting through the faded green striped fabric with its fluffy filling. There was a dark purple rug to mask miscellaneous stains their three children produced over the years. A collection of Grantaire's early artwork created some decent decor to bring the place up a notch. The TV looked like it was new. New in the 80s that is. All the movies in their hickory wood cabinet were classics, any Disney movie you could name and every season of the Brady Bunch. The carpet, which had distinct similarities to the grass outside, was rough to the touch, as were the water-damaged walls and ceilings. 

Jehan's greatest free was that there would be roaches in the kitchen. 

"Courfeyrac!" A plump woman, with the rosiest cheeks Jehan had ever seen, shuffled out to greet her son and his lovely partner. Her wavy orange hair reminded Jehan of Mrs. Weasley, in fact she greatly resembled the character in many ways including her attire. She was wearing fall colors and lots of homemade accessories. The clothing and her pudge made for a plush hug when she tugged them both into her arms. Believe it or not, Courfeyrac's mom, Trudy, was even shorter than Jehan, but probably twice his weight. "Sweetie, how are you?" She had an accent of some sort. Probably Irish but maybe just North Dakotan.

"I'm doing great." Courfeyrac truly loved his mom. She was probably the kindness person he had the privilege of knowing. "Mom, this is my boyfriend, Jehan." 

"Jehan! Of course! I've heard so much about you! You're just as handsome as Courfeyrac told me!" Jehan blushed at that comment. 

"Thank you. It's a pleasure meeting you."

"None sense! The pleasure is all mine." Before Jehan could attempt to politely counter that statement, she was leading them to the kitchen. "Eponine and Grantaire have already arrived." Her mood shifted to something a little more reserved and worried. "Thank God you came when you did! No one's spoken a word since their 'How-do-you-do's'!" 

The kitchen wasn't any fancier, but it was still clean and very homey. Unfortunately, the two couples at the table all looked very tense and angry. Grantaire and Enjolras didn't even look at each other. On the other side of the table, Eponine was glaring at Combeferre who was trying to avoid eye-contact at all costs. Azelma and Gavroche had tagged along because Trudy insisted on meeting them. The two were sitting across from each other, both anxious with big wide eyes. 

"Courfeyrac and Jehan are here!" Trudy chimed. The group remained silent. Trudy was unsure of what to do in this situation so she ushered Courfeyrac and Jehan to their seats. "Your Father will be here soon, until then, let's all sit down and chat a bit." She plopped down onto a rickety chair at the head (or foot) of the table. "Azelma, would you like to see Eponine's room?" 

That stung. Eponine had a room away from Mom and Dad's house and never invited her to stay over? She wondered where she would be if she was taken away from that hell hole when Eponine was. At the top of her class, her shirts would fit right, Combeferre might be interested in her, the possibilities were endless. It hurt too much to want to look at it and see all her old trinkets. "No thank you." She replied.

"Gavroche, tell me about school." She prompted.

"School? I don't go to school." He laughed at her stupidity. The group glared his mocking attitude. "Sorry." He slouched even lower into his chair. 

The minutes ticked past slowly, each second lingering a beat longer than natural, every breath more intense and menacing. Courfeyrac knew if he didn't confront the issue, no one would. "Okay, I've had enough of the awkwardness, now spill." He crossed his arms and eyed the two couples. 

"Courfeyrac, now's not the time." Combeferre warned. 

"No, now is the perfect time to discuss this. What is going on?" Jehan agreed with his confident boyfriend.  
"Enjolras doesn't love me anymore." Grantaire snarled. "You fucking happy?" He jabbed at Courfeyrac. "Last night, he snuggled up to Combeferre instead of me and vented about how trapped he feels with me!" Grantaire stood up, knocking the chair to the tile floor.

"I never said I didn't love you!" Enjolras was at his feet too. "I love you more than anything, I love you as much as you love me and that is a fact!" He pointed his finger at him harshly. 

"But you feel trapped? If you feel trapped then leave me! I don't want to 'drag you down'!" He quoted Combeferre's scornful words.

"You could never drag me down." Enjolras's ethusiastic tone dwindled to a trembling whisper. "You may not realize it, but as much as I'm raising you up, you're raising me up just as much. Grantaire, you're my world. I know last night I said something’s and I wondered how life would be if I was Combeferre, but even though that life would be good, it wouldn't be what I have now. And I love what I have now. I have you." 

That made Trudy swoon! "D'aw!" She beamed at Enjolras before tugging him into a hug. "You're so good to my boy!" Her cherry lips puckered and scraped his cheek bone, a little too thrilled. To Grantaire's delight, glow of bright red flushed over Enjolras's usually serious face.

"Do you forgive me?" One corner of Enjolras's mouth curved up in an awkward expression that begged for affection. Grantaire couldn't help it; he loved that boy unconditionally. Not worrying about Enjolras's aversion to PDA, Grantaire took Enjolras's by the nape of his neck and kissed him. Hard. Deep. Passionate. The heated kiss left Enjolras gasping for breath and flabbergasted once Grantaire pulled away.

"I couldn't stay mad at you, no matter how much I'd like to." 

And that pretty much destroyed Combeferre. He had no one. Eponine didn't love him and neither did Enjolras. All he had was this little snip of a little lady chasing after him. The little lady he fucked up so bad. She turned to him when she was must vulnerable and he didn't help her, he had sex with her and lead her into a state of deep depression. He swallowed. Hard. Deep. Passionate. 

"Are you okay?" Jehan murmured to Combeferre while the rest of the group was still absorbed in the beauty of the moment. Lip quivering, he nodded. He was lying. 

"So, Combeferre, why don't you tell me how you and Eponine met?" The conversations started rolling at an even, steady pace. 

“I’m home!” Courfeyrac’s dad, a slim man with curly, greying hair, walked in the house covered in grease. A glimmer ignited in Trudy’s eye, she glided across the stick-on-tile floor to greet her husband of 25 years. 

“Paul! Were you working on that old clunker again?” She wrinkled her nose at the grease layering his skin. 

“I’m so close to getting it up and running! You know, that was going to be Courfeyrac’s car.” Trudy had heard him rant about that hunk of metal that remained dormant in the garage so much; she had learned to tune it out. 

“How is everybody?” Paul scanned the room.

“Pretty good.” Courfeyrac smiled at his father. They weren’t close. Actually, they used to be the hallmark ideal of a father and son until he came out as bisexual in 8th grade and everything changed. His father, bless his heart, was a great man, but he didn’t know how exactly to cope with his son liking boys and girls. He wasn’t even aware that was possible, or had a name. 

“So, who’s with who?” Paul asked. 

“Dad, this is my partner in crime –well not really crime as much as cuddling- Jehan.” Courfeyrac tugged Jehan close to him to show off his attractive face.   
“Nice to meet you, young lady.” Paul extended his hand for a firm handshake. Comments like that, where pricks think they know you’re gender, crawled under Jehan’s skin and had a way of making him pissed. He tried his best to keep his anger at bay. 

“I’m not a girl.” Jehan growled. 

“You’re not? I mean- You’re not!” Courfeyrac’s dad tried his hardest to recover from that rude instance. 

“Just because I like men, I have long hair and I’m little, doesn’t mean I’m a girl.” 

“Right!” Paul agreed.

“Paul,” Grantaire addressed the man meekly. “This is my boyfriend Enjolras.” 

Now he was sure this boy was in fact a boy, even if he had a delicate, youthful face. “Hello Enjolras, I’m Paul.” 

“Meet Combeferre.” Eponine pointed at Combeferre with very little enthusiasm, if any. 

“It’s a pleasure, sir.” They shook hands, beaming at each other. 

“Finally! A good ole straight boy!” Courfeyrac’s dad really was trying to make a joke, honest, but it just came out homophobic and drove the room into a state of awkward silence. Thankfully, Courfeyrac grew up trying to cover for his dad, so he did just that. 

“Hey guys!” Courfeyrac chirped, calling for everyone’s attention. He pulled a cat out from under the table with an undeniably adorable expression on his already cute face. “Dis is me Courfeycat!” 

And that’s how they got the conversation to flow again. 

\-----

Back at the house, the couples plus Azelma and Gavroche returned late at night. Joly and Bossuet were patrolling the neighborhoods, looking for any sign of Musichetta, Feuilly was at work, Bahorel was at some rowdy bar and Marius and Cosette were cuddling in the basement while they watched a romantic comedy.

No matter how late it was, Enjolras, Combeferre and Courfeyrac had homework to do. They went up to the attic to get some work done while Grantaire, Gavroche and Eponine went to the living room to play video games. Azelma, however, went straight to bed. She had some issues bugging her.

She was still very much in love with Combeferre, as we all should know by now, but there were two other things on her mind. 

Early that week, Montparnasse called her and told her about Musichetta. He threated to kill Musichetta and Azelma if she squealed on him. So, the secret continued eating her alive. 

There was another secret too.

\-------

"Courfeyrac!" Jehan called, pulling the door wide open to the attic. 

"Has it been an hour already?" Courfeyrac smiled. 

"An hour already? What're you talking about?" Combeferre asked while he flipped through his text book, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

"Courfeyrac has trouble focusing-"

"We've noticed." Enjolras cut in coldly. It was true, Courfeyrac couldn't sit still for very long. Most of the time, he'd start bouncing around, or singing show tunes, or dancing with mops, or coloring in coloring books, or doing weak cartwheels. Just that night, he got bored of homework and began braiding Enjolras's hair. Somehow he was stealthy enough to weave his hair quickly, take a snapshot of him and braided-hair-Enjolras, and post on Instagram under #Ilikeboyswithbraids. One can find some interesting pictures on Courfeyrac's Instagram. 

"So we set up a system." Jehan continued, only a bit offended by Enjolras's insult. "Every hour Courfeyrac does homework for, he gets a half an hour to do whatever he wants with me." The timid boy blushed. 

"But apparently," Courfeyrac sighed histrionically. "'There will be no penetration of any kind, thank you very much'" He used a high, squeaky voice to mimic Jehan eccentrically. Jehan's blush grew darker. 

"Courfeyrac!" Jehan scolded before groping his arm and dragging him out the door. 

That got Enjolras thinking, maybe a reward system would help Grantaire's sobriety.

\------

The night was drawing to a close, everyone was finding their way to a bed, snuggled up to their lover, under a mound of cozy blankets. Everyone except Azelma who was pacing in the empty attic. Her secret was weighing on her heavily at the moment and she was debating if she should confess. In all honesty, it was just as much his business as her's. But the news would trigger more questions and unveil old lies. He could go his whole life without knowing and it wouldn't matter much. 

She should be sleeping, she had online schooling to do in the morning. Besides, she know she wasn't going to come to any kind of conclusion so late at night. 

All the sudden, making Azelma jolt in shock, the door swung open. "Enjolras! Do we really have to do this ag-" Combeferre was clearly under the impression Enjolras was up late fretting about marriage equality. "Oh, it's you." Combeferre noticed the dark figure was a pregnant teenager, not an angelically beautiful young man. 

"Yeah, just me." Azelma sat down on Enjolras's desk chair. Standing wasn't very fun with an inflated stomach.

"I didn't mean it like that." Combeferre recovered frantically. "I'm not disappointed to see you here, just surprised, that's all."

"You wanted to see Enjolras up here, didn't you?" Azelma looked down at her twiddling thumbs, a sad smile on her young face. It was true; he wanted to find Enjolras there and somehow convince Enjolras that he was in love with him.

"Well, it would've been nice, but-"

"Are you gay?" Azelma suddenly confronted him with the frankness of a child. The question stunned Combeferre for a brief moment, but he collected himself.

"I think I'm at least a bit queer, but I like women as well. I've only had feelings for two men in my whole life." Combeferre admitted. Now, Azelma knew about him being gaga over Enjolras, but what she didn't know was this wasn't the first time Combeferre had been attracted to another man. As nosy as she was, she didn't feel right about prying. 

There was a lull in the conversation, Azelma stood and gripped the desk as she leaned against it nervously. She bit her bottom lip and her brow furrowed. "I should tell you something." 

Combeferre bent down to make eye contact with her. "Are you queer too?" He whispered.

"No." She shook her head. She began rubbing her arm sheepishly. "Remember when I told you I was pregnant?" Combeferre nodded, prompted her to continue. "Well I lied." Confusion settled on Combeferre's face as Azelma's swollen stomach knotted and twisted. 

"But you're pregnant. I can tell." Combeferre eyed her pregnant baby bump, thinking of the evil man who did that to such a poor, innocent soul. 

"Yes, I am pregnant." She released a warbling breath to defuse the tension rumbling from her core. "But when I told you, I wasn't. You might want to sit down for this one." She rolled the desk chair out and gestured for him to take a seat on the leathery cushion. 

"Alright." He cleared his throat, settling into the chair. 

"I didn't lie to you, at least not purposely." She opened timidly. "Montparnasse raped me, I took a test, and it was a false positive." The man looked behind himself to meet her eyes that flickered around to avoid contact. "I was just- you know- late." She became very flustered at the mention of her womanly issues. 

"Um maybe this is a better conversation to have with Joly?" Combeferre suggested. Even though Combeferre started as a medical student, he switch majors so he could get a useless degree in philosophy paired with a slightly more practical degree in teaching and education. All those seeking medical advice and discussion were advised to see Joly instead. 

"No." Azelma relaxed her concentrated face. "Then you and I had that night." She nervously addressed the topic to which Combeferre gave a reflective nod. "That's when I got pregnant." 

The arm rests were clutched by Combeferre's strong, calloused hands. For a moment, he sucked in shallow breaths, trying to regain a state of calm. How could this be happening? Why was everything spiraling out of control? Why couldn't he stop falling? When did life start sucking? He remembered thinking about the vile creature who impregnated the girl who was hardly anything more than a child. His image used to be the epitome of evil, a man who deserved no happiness. Knowing he did this, the vision remained the same, his face pasted onto Montparnasse's. 

He was no longer the victim in life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit all over the place.... please tell me how you feel about this chapter and this fic in general. Most of the readers who have stuck around probably have left kudos, but if not, consider doing so. Share thoughts, feelings, suggestions etc. And, just being honest, totally blow up the comments with head canons and fangirling/fanboying! Seriously.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire sees something he's only seen in his paintings, reminisces and gets a startling phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 26! Can you believe it? This chapter is very Grantaire heavy and also has a lot of ExR! Yay! I just ship them so hard. There is literally no progress in the story until the very last paragraph.

The first time Grantaire saw Enjolras completely naked, like all the greatest miracles of the world, was an accident. Neither of them had any idea Grantaire would find Enjolras in a very unclothed state on that gloomy Sunday morning. 

Grantaire was in their room, painting away, slashing a red paint brush against a pristune white canvas. It had been a week since a drop of alchol touched his chapped lips. How he longed for it's bitter taste and the spell it would cast in him. Before he was dating Enjolras, alchol was the only way he could believe Enjolras could love him. And only in that disoriented state could he not see that Enjolras had hidden, confusing feelings for him. 

Sobriety was different. There were moments when Grantaire felt amazing and other, more frequent occurances where he slipped into a dark place or became agressive and took out his anger on an innocent canvas or an unsuspecting sketch pad. 

Even with the times he felt like he'd gladly die for the relief of an ice cold beer, Enjolras had purposed a reward system which made it worth it. Kinda. Enjolras, with the guidance of Combeferre, under the expertice of Jehan and with a bit of creativity on the sexual aspects courtesy of Courfeyrac, had deviced a near flawless calendar, littered with stars for the days Grantaire would be rewarded. Under the lopsided stars, etched in vibrant red sharpie, little abbriveations of the rewards were jotted down. Some of which, Grantaire could decipher. There were innocent ones like 'Rom Com', 'Ice skating' and 'Dinner D8'. But there were just as many dirty ones; 'BJ', 'Nude Modeling' 'DFK' and 'HJ'. Grantaire was looking forward to all of them, sexy or domestic! 

As he went about thrasing his brush against a bleeding canvas, Enjolras slinked down the ladder in the corner of the room. The ladder went straight to the attic, skipping the mess of stairs and hallways to the spare space. The attic wasn't truly and attic, just an unfinished, all wood room with windows that supplied a constant stream of golden light. In fact it had a bathroom, a bathroom Enjolras frequently used for his quick morning showers. One this particular morning, Enjolras forgot that his towel was whipping around the washer and he blanked on bringing clothes up with him. So, he came down the ladder naked, hoping Grantaire would be asleep. 

Unfortunately, as we ll know, that's not the case. Grantaire heard the moaning of the old, rickety steps as his feet pressed against them. The eerie sound caused Grantaire to peek over his shoulder. 

There he was. Enjolras, naked, the most elegant sight. Feeling no shame, he drank in his emmaculate physique. Every curve was percise, he was an artist, he was suppose to look for this kind of beauty and capture before it's original form slipped away. But no one, no matter how talented, could recreate Enjolras's endlessy porcline legs, or his graceful swanlike neck or all his femine features that somehow combined to sculpt this extremely masculine being. Oh and DAT ASS! 

One the other hand, Enjolras was paralyzed with embarassment, he couldn't even shift to cover his impressive manhood. "Am I allowed to look at you?" Grantaire gaped, somehow piecing together a coherent sentence. His intial reaction was to scold Grantaire and shoo him. But they were in an adult relationship, nudity should be embraced. 

"Y-yes, of course." He stuttered. 

That's when Grantaire really exaimed the man. His eyes didn't dart about, trying to see it all before the skin was concealed once again. He took his sweet time, enjoying every detail because there was no timer that would buzz to cue his body into it's dapper clothing. Grantaire could scan slowly and savor.

Looking was enough and yet, he craved more. "Can I touch you?" Grantaire approached his nude god timidly. Flawless white teeth dragged across Enjolras's plush pink lips as he pondered letting him touch him. He never thought he would face this situation, he hadn't a clue that he was a sexual being.

"I-I suppose s-so." Enjolras quivered. Grantaire went straight for his toned hips, thumbing at Enjolras's soft skin. His breathing hitched as his fingers tickled against the planes of his boyfriend's abdomen. Every inch of flesh he touched sent a surge of ecstasy through both of their bodies. Enjolras's arousal was quite visable while Grantaire's was still hidden beneath a few articles of clothing hanging carelessly on his boney body. Without warning, Enjolras yanked Grantaire's shirt off with a grace all his own, and he gazed upon the beautiful pale skin of him concave stomach. 

"Your pants?" Enjolras tugged at Grantaire's tattered belt with a smirk. Sure, neither were intendeding on having sex, but neither were opposed to some sexy times.

\-----

Just because he was dating Enjolras, doesn't mean Grantaire pretends to give a shit about politics or social activism. He'll go to his meetings, offer his cynical views, occasionally take on a task he rarely completes and listen to Enjolras rant just to have an excuse to stare. But rallies, that's where he drew the line. 

Today, a few hours after Grantaire successfully gave Enjolras his very first hand job, the gang was off to yet another pointless rally supporting the LGBTQ. For this particular rally, Enjolras had somehow sucked in all the girls and agreed to let Gavroche tag along. Joly and Bossuet, however, declined in favor of continuing their strenious search for Musichetta. Later, the couple decided with heavy hearts that Musichetta could wait and went with the group to protest.

That left Grantaire all alone to think about Enjolras, how his eyes rolled back in his head as Grantaire pleasured him, how he moaned his name in a low growl, how his hair was getting long again. Enjolras used to have very long hair. When Grantaire first met him in freshman year, Enjolras always pulled his hair back into a surprisingly sexy ponytail. But, since everyone has to be bad at something, even someone as wonderful as Enjolras, he was horrible at putting his hair up. Coils of gold sprung out of the pony tail, falling in front of his girlish face. And did he ever loook sexy! Eventually, he got his hair chopped away and he became- if possible - even more beautiful.

That brought the memory of when Grantaire met Enjolras back to mind. Courfeyrac had been busy with a new trio of friends who were all about social activism. Grantaire couldn't have been have been happier that Courfeyrac found people to complain about the government with, it saved Grantaire a lot of lazy 'Uh huh's and 'shut the hell up, Courfeyrac, I'm trying to fucking sleep.'s. The chiper brunette bragged about how intelligent and driven they were and how passionate the blonde was, and how logical the boy with the glasses was, and fantastically peculiar the boy with the braid was. But Grantaire dismissed the legendary activists as a group Courfeyrac would eventually offend or become to unsophisticated for. 

Meanwhile, Grantaire had been having weird dreams. Like, unexplainably strange. Everynight, before jolting awake, Grantaire would have the same reoccuring dream. The dream took place in a little cafe that looked nearly golden in the glow of the sun that bowed beneath the horizon. There was a man, or an angel or some sort of god infront of an open window. He looked defeated, his eyes were glistening with tears as he stared at his scuffed shoes. A gang of soldiers surronded the lone man whose golden hair enchanted a mere mortal such as Grantaire, muskets pointed and cocked. He looked onto the scene from a table loaded with bottles, still drozy from a drunken rest. All the sudden his dream self, dressed in clothes you'd find in the 1800s like the man before him, stood and staggered toward the beaken of light. 

"Long live the republic!" Grantaire bellowed. "I am one of them." That couldn't be true, Grantaire would never be apart of a band of yuppies fighting for phony freedom. But this man, glistening in the setting sun, his audacity and bravery shown in the harsh line of his brow and his sharp jaw, less than a man, more the a child, nearing the standard of a god, he could join a revolution for him. 

Grantaire made his way through the ring of soldiers to be beside the awe inspiring man. "Long live the republic." He repeated to the man breathily. Regaining his tremoring bravery, Grantaire order, "Two at one shot!" Part of Grantaire, the part that held so much admiration for the angelic revolutionairy, desired his aproval. "Do you permit it?" 

And then man's smile could melt a stone heart, a sweet grin replaced his focused face and he grasped Grantaire's hand, setting free a fleet of fluttering butterflies in his stomach. 

The dream would always end the same, the soliders would fire at the both, piering the mystery man eight times and sending him backwards to hang from the window frame by his feet. Grantaire would be shot and fall to his knees, bowing in the presence of a god. Then he'd wake up.

So while Courfeyrac was babbling about upcoming rallies, the latet meeting or how wonderful the boy with the flower crown smelled, Grantaire painted the man of his dreams. Literally. His image had invaded his mind and taken over every empty canvas, every blank page in his sketch book and the margins of his notes.

One day, Courfeyrac got sick, and Courfeyrac never gets sick. But when he does, it's bad. Courfeyrac was in crippling pain, his nose not running but gushing, his voice was hoarse from consistant coughing and worst of all, Courfeyrac was going to miss the meeting that night! "Please, Grantaire! Will you go and record the meeting for me; I have to know what's going on!" Courfeyrac's obsession with these guys was a little out of hand. 

"No way, I'm not going to listen to some pretentious bastard rant about his uneducated views on politics. I rather watch Glee for eight hours straight!" Courfeyrac gasped at the insults Grantaire carelessly threw his way. 

"Glee is fan-fucking-tastic and you know it!" Courfeyrac chucked a wad of used tissues directly at his face.

"Gross!" Grantaire swatted the ball of mucus on to the germy floor of their trashed dorm. "I'm not going!"

"Please! Feuilly will be there, you know the guy who came over last week? You guys really hit it off, being artsy together. And you'll love Enjolras, he knows what he's talking about and he is the best debator I've ever met, he's like a god." The word god reverberated in his ear. Every night in his dreams he had met a god, meeting one in real life would be a nice change of pace.

"Fine! But call Feuilly and have him bring to your gay-ass meeting." 

Later that day, Feuilly should up, panting from running to their dorm from the craft store after his grueling shift. Grantaire grumbled before planting a friendly kiss on his bestfriend's forehead. "Feel better soon, you manipulative shit."

"Love ya too, sweetheart!" Courfeyrac smirked at Grantaire. Being Courfeyrac, he tried to compliment Grantaire before he left each day in efforts to help his rock-bottom self-esteem. "Your hair looks good, 'Taire, don't make a nusince of yourself and you could get laid tonight!" 

When Grantaire reached the little cafe where the meeting was held, he was hoping he would bring someone back to the dorm, more specifically, he was hoping to bring that slice of a leader, Enjolras home. He was identical to the man he had spent so much time sketching! The entire meeting, he stared, his phone propped up to record him. 

Half way through the meeting, Grantaire pulled his sketch book out of his satchel so he could capture this Apollo in action with a pencil. His pencil gilded across the page, out-lining his elegant features that curved in intensity. 

The meeting drew to a close but Grantaire wasn't done sketching, Feuilly told him he had to head back to work and abandoned him at the meeting with no way of getting home. 

At the other end of the table, Enjolras was stacking his papers as he said his goodbye's to all his friends. He noticed that Courfeyrac was missing and in his place was an intriging boy who stayed close to Feuilly at all times. Something about his unruly hair and disrespectful aura interested Enjolras, he could tell he was skeptical, this made him eager to persaude him to his side. 

"Hey, you're new." Enjolras snuck behind Grantaire causing him to flinch and slam his sketch book shut. "I'm Enjolras." He reached out to shake his hand. Grantaire shoved his sketch book deep in his satchel. "What's that?"

"Nothing!" Grantaire murmured with edge. 

"You're an artist?" Grantaire shrugged. "Let me see your work." Enjolras was charming. Courfeyrac had raved about Enjolras's charisma that contrasted his tendancy to snap into harshness. Rolling his eyes, Grantaire handed Enjolras his sketch book. Such pretty hands had never flipped through his work. He cringed and covered his head so that when Enjolras attacked himnfor being a creep, his skull wouldn't burst. "Wow." He gasped. "You're- hypnotizing. Your work is, I mean. You're really talented." 

"Nah."

"Seriously. I've never seen anything this spectacular." Grantaire thought the same way about him. "What's you're name? There's an R in the corner." He stroked the scribbled letter in the lower right-hand corner. 

"I'm Grantaire." He stood up. 

"Well, Grantaire, I hope to see you next week." He shook his hand politely. "And next time," He began as he opened the door. "why don't you share some of your ideas? I'd love to hear them." He walked out with firm strides, his ponytail swishing from side to side. 

"Sure you do." Grantaire wanted to say that to himself as a snide remark, but the bright smile on his face killed the snarkiness. 

Grantaire happily remembered the early days, it didn't last. At the next meeting, Grantaire was heavily intoxicated and picked holes in Enjolras's arguments. They had their first major fight, starting an endless string of bickering and deadly glares. Somehow, through all the yelling and hot, angry tears, the two ended up together. 

The buzzing of his phone shocked Grantaire out of his dizzying trance. A stealthy picture Courfeyrac capture of Enjolras with a pink bow in his hair popped on the screen. Enjolras was calling him. 

"What's up?" Grantaire asked.

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you." That made Grantaire beamed from ear-to-ear. "Oh, and we're all in jail for the night, see you tomorrow!" Before Grantaire could bumbard Enjolras with the questions rapidly accumulating in his head, Enjolras hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case your sex abbreviation vocabulary sucks (pun SO intended) like mine, here is a handy-dandy key!  
>  BJ- Blow Job  
> DFK- Deep French Kissing  
> HJ- Hand Job
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please remember to leave kudos and comments below! A great way to stay in the loop in regards to this fic is to subscribe! Subscribing is my favorite thing! When you're a member, you can click subscribe and get email notifications when a fic is updated. You can also subscribe to me as an author to stay updated with all my writing projects. And seriously, your head canons, I want to hear them. Comment some head canons! I'm interested in other peoples ideas! Like seriously, let's talk head canons! If not here, kik me @Soprano57
> 
> My next chapter will be set in jail! But the next chapter is one I'm really looking forward to because it has to do with an issue that really effects me. So, don't worry, there is still a lot of crazy stuff in store! Read on, friends!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jail! That's basically all you need to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Writing is becoming a slow process ever since I discovered tumblr... I'm addicted... Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. Please comment, I'd like to know where YOU want to see this fic go and if you're enjoying this.

Generally speaking, protesting didn't usually get the gang thrown into jail. In fact, this was the first time Enjolras couldn't convince the police to let them go. Enjolras was way over on the makeshift stage leading a chant as LGBTQ memebers and allies waved their signs viciously. The police were casually inter-mingled in the roaring crowd which wasn't unusual for a rally, so no one was real worried. 

Bahorel and Feuilly, straight allies, were huddled under baggy grey ponchos with their hood pulled over their damp heads. Each of them had signs, and they lazily responded to Enjolras's spirited hollering. When Enjolras shouted, 'What do we want?' Bahorel replied, 'Some fucking coffee!' Feuilly laughed as Bahorel's responses became stranger and stranger. Feuilly's laugh, unfortunately, was very unattractive. It consisted of snorting and hiccuping and awful noise that Bahorel sort of adored. Making Feuilly laugh, was Bahorel's favorite thing. 

Steadily, the noise level climbed, the size of the rambunctious crowd exponential ly increased as the day progressed and everyone was getting rowdier by the minute. The police gave some friendly warnings to individuals and tried not to make a big scene about escorting some proud activists to their police cruisers. Each time Enjolras saw someone being pulled away, he would interrupt himself to yell, 'Do not be afraid, they cannot touch you, you are apart of this revolution and your voice shall not be silenced!' Or something overly-passionate such as that. 

A huge banner had been hung on the industrial posts of the stage that read: 'Les Amis De l'ABC: LGBTQ Rights Protest!' Enjolras wanted them to know who was hosting the protest, not for glory but so they could take responsibility for anything illegal. 

To ensure they could take blame for their cause, Enjolras made sure his group, including Gavroche since he whined his way into one, were all wearing pins that said: 'Official Member of Les Amis De l'ABC'

Feuilly and Bahorel were still joking around when they heard the murmuring of police officers. 

"Who are the Les Amis De l'ABC?" One asked.

"I don't think you say 'the', 'Les' means 'the' in Spanish." A second officer corrected.

"It's not Spanish, it's Russian!" A third added in the mix. 

"Nah, nah, Pearson is right," The first officer sounded very squeeky, like a cartoon character. "It's Spanish."

"Yeah!" The second agreed. "ABC is a pun. It's like A-B-Si. Funny right?" Bahorel, who suffered anger issues, was getting angry at these snobbish cops talking about their name.

"I thought 'les' was short for lesbian, but that girl on the stage is too pretty to be gay." The first one admitted.

"Hate to break it to you, Thomas, but that's a faggoty boy, a very faggoty boy." His homophobic slurs hit Bahorel like a speeding bullet, he may be pretty sure he was straight, but no one calls his friend faggoty. 

"Well, their was a pair of dykes with him earlier, a pretty blonde one in a pink dress," The third officer was referring to Cosette, who was all dolled up in a salmon lacey dress that hugged the womanly curves of her abdomen until it flared out over a thick layer of tulle. "And one that looked like Ellen Degeneres with brown hair and freckles." If Bahorel wasn't so pissed, the officer mistaking Marius for a masculine lesbian would have sent him into a fit of laughter. But this only added to his boiling rage.

"I don't think it's short for lesbian, I think it really does mean 'the' Spanish." The second officer concluded. 

"Pearson, McFly, Thomas, what're you three babbling about?" A severe voice barked.

"The little yuppy activism group and their pretentious foreign name." The second officer explained to the fourth man who Bahorel was sure was above them in rank. 

"No doubt French Vanilla up there came up with it!" The first one joked. "What was his name On-your-ass?" That was it! Make fun of the name all you want, but his friends, that was a big no-no. Bahorel whipped around. 

"Look, dumbasses, the name is fucking French. It is a pun, but far too sophisticated for you blokes. Now, Enjolras, he is the fucking best kind of guy, he actually gives a shit and guess what? He's going to making a difference and all you'll ever be is a cop!" Bahorel unleashed on the police officers, exposing his pin. 

"So, you're part of this little band of overgrown twerps?" The third cop narrowed his eyes at Bahorel who refused to back down. 

"So, you're part of this little band of asshole police officers?" Bahorel growled back. In efforts to intimidate Bahorel the badass, the third cop got real close to Bahorel.

"How would you like me to arrest you and all your little friends for your unpeaceful protest?" His words had no effect on Bahorel.

"Make my day." Bahorel lurched forward and the chaos commenced. The cops seized him and signaled the other cops to snag any person branded with the pin of Les Amis. Enjolras was literally tackled on the stage. Combeferre was yanked away by a comically small in comparison cop, causing his flyers to scatter across the ground. Eponine, Cosette and Marius were all thrown in the back of a cruiser, their limbs tangling together in a pile. Two cops pried apart Joly and Bossuet. Joly had a panic attack and needed to be with Bossuet at the time, being forced away was wrecking the poor kid. Within seconds, the police found all the members and wrangled them into police cruisers in a less than orderly fashion.

The whole crowd went berserk. Everyone scrambled out of the scene as to not get arrested. The radical activists started vandalising whatever they could to get their mits on in their crazed rage. Four femme lesbians climbed on top of the police car Gavroche was being shoved inside. They held a gay pride flag against themselves, gave it a good shimmie and then dropped it to reveal their naked bodies. Gavroche wolf whistled before Eponine tugged him inside. 

As the drove off, Enjolras saw a wild protester light a tree on fire and get tackled by a team of officers. This was definitely not how he expected this to go.

\---

Each cell was equipped with three sets of bunk beds that were attached to the walls. Every two cells shared a jack-and-jill bathroom instead of an exposed toilet in the corner of each cell. It was sort of a sweet little set up.

In one cell, we have Enjolras sitting on a bed with his head cradled in his long delicate fingers, Combeferre reading a book he had hidden in his leather satchel, Courfeyrac clutching the bars and screaming clearly incorrect quotes from the constitution, Jehan etching poetry into the grime plastered on the wall and Marius pathetically sobbing into the crunchy pillow.

"How can I live when Cosette and I are parted?" Marius wept. 

"It is are 98th amendment right! Pretty boys can NOT go to jail!" Courfeyrac had gone blue in the face from hollering and other inmates were loudly complaining. "And I am very pretty! I demand freedom!" 

"Courfeyrac," Jehan called. "Settle down! No matter how beautiful you are, we're stuck here til morning." Grumbling, Courfeyrac stomped toward the bed hanging against the back wall and slouched on the papery blankets. 

"This is all my fault." Enjolras looked at Combeferre who peered over his book to acknowledge him. "Isn't it?" 

"I think Bahorel sort of got the police angry, it wasn't y-" 

"I'm the leader, it's my responsibility to make sure everything goes smoothly and we don't end up in prison." Enjolras interrupted. He had a point, but a weak one. "A good leader wouldn't've let this happen." 

"Stop right there." Combeferre clamped a book mark in between the pages of his book. "You're an amazing leader. Good leaders make mistakes, great leaders learn from them." That earned Combeferre a smile from the blonde. He revelled in his glorious grin for a moment before sinking back into his novel. 

Jehan tired of scraping his finger nails at the the sludge coating the walls and joined Courfeyrac on the bed. "You were writing about that thing again?" Courfeyrac said uneasily as he scanned over the loopy cursive on the greenish wall. Lately, something big had been weighing on the gentle poet. 

"Yeah." He sighed. Thankfully, Jehan's boyfriend is amazing, supportive and a great cuddler. To Jehan, cuddling involves lots and lots of kissing. He didn't even mind that they had zero privacy. 

"You know how much I love you?" Courfeyrac smooched Jehan on the top of his head. 

"Yes, but do tell me again." Jehan beamed at his partner. Even though Jehan was that weird kid who bit kids until age 12, had strange collects and slipped into long periods of depression, part of him was happy no matter what. Part of him loved prancing through meadows and Beyonce. But all of him, happy or sad, loved   
Courfeyrac dearly.

"I love you so much that if all the stars fell from the sky, if I could never laugh, eat ice cream or sing again, if the birds stopped chirping, if their were no puppies or kitties, if I never saw the light of day again, I would still have reason to be happy because I have you." Courfeyrac, if at all possible, got even closer to Jehan. "I may not be poetic like you, but I could not picture being with anyone but you." 

"You're perfect." Jehan ran his fingers through Courfeyrac's curly brown hair lovingly before leaning in for a deep kiss. "When I see you, I feel my dreams coming true." 

They gazed at each other for one long moment of pure bliss, then Jehan broke the trance. "If you'll excuse me, I just got very inspired." The worn leather bound book with yellow, fraying pages was a book Courfeyrac had seen many times before but never actually read. Usually Jehan let anyone look over his shoulder as he stroked the page with his favorite pen. For some reason, no one, especially not Courfeyrac, could read this book. Cosette was allowed a peek once though because she's a girl or something dumb like that. The cover had an elegant title 'Dear You,' written in gorgeous handwritting. From what Courfeyrac had gathered, it was a collection of letters, pictures, artifacts, treasures, poems and little thingies stuffed between the covers to someone that Jehan had been working on since he was very young. Why, Combeferre once told Courfeyrac a story about how it went missing in Junior High and Enjolras was the one to find it and return it, somehow recognizing the handwritting. 

All that really matter was that when Jehan wrote in it, he got really giggly which usually meant he was writing about something happy. But Jehan also got giggly about human skulls so you never know.

\----------

It wasn't Bahorel's first time in the slammer. He found himself locked up for tumbles at various rowdy bars across town, DUIs and a whole slew of little things. But no one else in his cell had been to jail so- being a good guy- he swore to make this as fun as jail could be. 

"So the first thing we do is lay down on the floor." Bahorel instructed as he hopped off the bed he was sitting on alone. Hesitantly, Feuilly joined him on the floor, he did wait for further instruction before setting his lovely over grown ginger hair on the grimy ground. Bossuet motioned for Joly to follow him to the cold concrete. Everyone understood when Joly refused, he had been having panic attacks sporadically throughout the night. Things weren't going well for Joly, his hypochondria had been particularly grueling all day and being in a germy place with no disinfectant was not helping with his anxiety. 

"No thanks guys, I don't want you guys catching what I have." He moaned, wiping away stray tears. 

"Ok, so Feuilly, put your head on my stomach." Bahorel prompted.

"What? No!" Feuilly crinkled his nose.

"Don't be a pussy!" Bahorel yanked his head on his stiff abs by Feuilly's hair. 

"Ew! I can hear your stomach digesting!" Feuilly whined.

Bahorel rolled his eyes a little more flirtatiously than he intended. "Alright Bossuet, get your bald head on Feuilly's tummy." He ordered. Cautiously, Bossuet laid his head on Feuilly's stomach. 

"Now what?" Bossuet ventured. Out of nowhere Feuilly felt his head bounce on Bahorel's stomach as his hardy laughter erupted through the cell. The sensation caused Feuilly bust out laughing which in turn made Bossuet's head bobble. The wiggling had Bossuet cracking up in no time. 

Between fits of unfaltering laughter, Bahorel gasped, "Fun right?" Feuilly giggled a message that somehow translated to 'Yes, Oh God, yes.'

"Come play Joly, you could use a good laugh!" Bossuet chuckled as the buzz dwindled.

"Really, I think it's contagious." Joly insisted. 

"The only thing contagious down here is laughter." Bahorel joked. The cute pun was enough to persuade Joly into lowering his shivering frame onto the floor and trying to relax as he used Bossuet's comfy stomach as a pillow. Clearing his throat, Bahorel began with a loud hardy-har-har that got the ball rolling. The energy surged from stomach-to-head-to-stomach and so forth. The laughter reached Joly and his head bounced on his boyfriend's stomach.

His buddies were right; laughter is the best medicine.

\-------------------

 

The third cell that was occupied by Les Amis was a living hell. Eponine, Azelma and Cosette in tight quarters, how could it not be? Eponine was still pissed at Azelma for being- well Azelma. Cosette was being a pathetic little princess while she sobbed in the corner. And Azelma was in a lot of pain on that particular day, she could hardly move at the time. Adding to that, Gavroche was with them. The police had enough trouble with him that they basically felt they could throw him into whatever cell they saw fit.

Eponine paced back and forth in efforts to not start screaming at the other girls in the cell. Gavroche was bounce a ball off the wall, he wasn't fased by the slime that would stick to the ball. 

"I'm bored!" He announced reaching his limit in exasperation. 

"Deal with it, you little shit." Eponine snarled.

"Touchy!" Gavroche snarked back before settling onto a bed that crunched under his little weight. Attitude was something Eponine cpuldn't handle right now.

"Oh shut your damn mouth, I'm fucking stressed out because I'm in jail with a pregnant slut, Ms. Touch-me-not and a little twerp." Seriously, Eponine was so pissed at the whole world. Every. last. square. inch.

"Eponine, you need to take a chill pill." Azelma piped up, irritated and in agony. "You've been a bitch for far too long."

"You've been a whore for far too long! I bet you liked what Montparnasse did to you, i bet you fucking loved it." Eponine stooped to an all time low by taunting her sister.

"Just remember that Combeferre had sex with me before he had sex with you." Biting back was not an Azelma thing to do, she wasn't a firecracker lile Eponine, but fighting kinda gave her a rush. 

"Big whoop! Do you think I even care about him? You're the one who's in love with him! And guess what? He'll never love you! He's in love with me!" Eponine's harsh, world-crushing reminder destroyed Azelma. Her of all people should know how much a comment like that could sizzle to a burn. 

In the heat of the moment, Azelma let her biggest secret slip, "Montparnasse didn't get me pregnant, Combeferre did!" No one dared to move. Jaws on the floor, everyone ogled Azelma with bulging eyes. Eponine launched forward to attack, her hands ready to seize her throat and strangle her sister to death. 

"You slut!" Eponine screamed. By a slim margin, Azelma managed to escape Eponine's lethal grasp by ducking. Like cat and mouse, Eponine chased after Azelma who menuovered with no shortage of swiftness, jumped over Gavroche clumsily and ducked under Eponine's flailing limbs. As the cell was very small, Azelma quickly swallowed up all the space to run. Eponine had her cornered, Azelma pinned herself against the wall as closely as she could. It was almost asbif she was trying to push the wall the extend the room. Eponine loomed before her, a wicked smile that seemed to belong to Montparnasse spreading deliciously across her infuriated face. She panted as she raised a fist, preparing to end Azelma. This was it.

"Stop!" Cosette trembled. Eponine retracted her fist. "She's your sister, 'Ponine. Your sister!" She emphasized. They seperated at her teary command. "Now," She cleared her throat. "Hug and apologize." With a groan, Eponine embraced Azelma, lacking all sincerity. 

"I'm going to bed." Azelma grumbled, stomped across the concrete and flopped onto a rickety bottom bunk. 

"Yeah, this pretty much got awkward. I say lights out?" Gavroche suggested before literally climbing onto the top bunk of thebed shoved against the wall parrell with the iron bars that resembled all too much the gates of hell.

Everyone laid down for some shut eye. Everyone except Cosette who was still curled up in the corner crying her eyes out. At first, Eponine tried to drown it out by fashioning ear-muffs by pressing the sides of her pillow to her ears in an arch. Soon enough, the whimpering annoyed Eponine enough for her to go over to Cosette and personally make her shut up. 

"Cosette!" She adressed her in a scornful whisper. "Stop your crying, you're going to see your precious boyfriend in like eight hours."

"It's not that." She rubbed her eyes in efforts to dry them. 

"Oh did you break a nail, pretty princess?" Eponine barked back. 

"Eponine, please!" She looked up at her with pleading eyes. "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all!" 

"Fair enough." She murmurmed, crossing her slender arms. "What's wrong?" A sigh escaped her mouth.

"It's my Dad." She fiddled with a hankerchief she had been sobbing into. "I feel like I'm letting him down. I'm his little girl, I shouldn't be in jail! He'd be so embarrassed. He gave me everything! I must be the worst daughter in the world." There was something about her misty eyes and honesty that made Eponine's heart melt and swallow her pride in a struggling gulp. She crouched down to look Cosette in the eye.

"Look, Cosette." She began. "No matter what you do, Valjean is going to love you. You're the world to him. And you're not the worst daughyer in the world. You're kind, compassionate, sweet, generous, smart, beautiful and above all you're good. You never intentionally hurt someone and if you do hurt someone you always apologize and you mean it. He may have given you everything but you gave him more. You gave him a loving daughter who always tries her best." Eponine rose to her feet. "Now, get up." She reached out to pull her up. A sweet smile bloomed on her darling face when she put her hands in Eponine's. Eponine tugged her up with a touch to much force for the light-weight package she was helping up. Cosette was flung into Eponine's arm, bodies smooshing together and arms wrapping around eachother. At first, Eponine thought it was awkward and then, Cosette giggled. 

"Thank you, 'Ponine." Cosette bounced up on to her toes to smooch Eponine's forehead. Her plush lips didn't mind the thin layer of glistening sweat that had accumulated on her face from the intensity of her pursuit pf Azelma. Grinning, Cosette skipped over to the bunk under Gavroche's bed. 

Eponine's heart was pounding as she pet the spot where an angel had left a trace her lip gloss. Maybe all this time she wasn't jealous of Cosette, she was jealous of Marius. Whatever it was, she was certainly less interested in Marius than ever.

\------

Another person, someone close to the friends, was in a different kind of prison. Musichetta was confined, stuck, trapped in the dingy hell-hole Montparnasse called home. Living conditions were improving, that she could not deny. Everyday, she could help herself to a reasonable amount of food, she had full access to the TV when Montparnasse was away, and Montparnasse was putting effort into being a better captor. He listened to her and tried to problem solve without being too aggressive. Of course he tripped up a lot, he never needed to be kind before.

Musichetta was camping out in the room she shared with Montparnasse after a particularly grueling fight. He said somethings, she said more things back, he came back with some piering remarks and she shot some more burning insults. In the end, she stormed off to the bedroom to take her anger out on a few posters tacked onto the wall and cry a bit. She cooled down and laidnon her stomach on the un-made bed, fiddling with a pair of headphones she found tangled in the filthy sheets. 

It took Montparnasse twenty minutes from the end of the fight to knock on the door. "Musichetta?" He sniffled.

"What?" You could hear the eye-roll in her voice. 

"Can we talk?" 

"No, go away" Musichetta was getting sick of of Montparnasse's crap. 

"Please?" He persisted. He hated Musichetta being mad at him, he was in love with her afterall. With an audiable groan, Musichetta rolled out of bed to open the door with an irritated look plastered on her attractive face. 

"What do you want?" Her tan, slightly plump arms folded across her breasts that were dressed in a fancy push-up bra. 

"I want to make this right." He cleared his throat. 

"How do you intend on doing that." Musichetta's face went dead-pan.

"I'm letting you go." He concluded. The once lifeless eyes became wide with shock, could this be true? She didn't believe Montparnasse was letting her go, Montparnasse wasn't suppose to show any compassion. 

"You're kidding" Musichetta covered her gaping mouth. 

"There is one condition." Montparnasse looked at his feet, not able to met her astonished eyes. 

"I'll do anything." Even though Musichetta didn't mean to hurt Montparnasse, that burned. When you love someone and they tell you they'd do anything to get away from you, that's what he calls pain. 

"You can go as long as you go on a date with me." Montparnasse finally looked up at her with vulnerablity smoldering in his eyes. 

"A date?" 

"That's the condition." Montparnasse gulped. 

She nodded. "Yes. Okay, sure." 

"I'll see you Friday at 6pm at my house." Montparnasse couldn't wipe the smile off his face. 

Musichetta started to walk out the door uneasily. As much as it hurt for Montparnasse to let her go, he knew it was the right thing to do. The girl wasn't happy being trapped in his house and away from her friends. Besides, when you love someone, you set them free. If they come back, it's ment to be. If they don't, they were never your's to lose. "Wait!" She suddenly turned to face Montparnasse. "Just one more night? I'll just call Joly to come pick me up in the morning at the Musian." 

"Sounds great."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have huge awesome plans that are just going to kill me to write for next chapter so be prepared. Thanks for reading. Now, before you hastily move onto to the next fic, please leave a comment!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's back together in the house! Yay! Courfeyrac's world stops spinning for a moment. Enjolras is gay, so is Fueilly. Jehan is having a tough time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was particularly grueling because I wrote about a topic that is currently screwing up my life. If I offended anyone with this or said something stupid (well more stupid than usual) I apologize. All I can say is this is based on true events.

That night was a struggle for Grantaire, not because he couldn't stand being away from Enjolras, he had plenty of practice when he was pining for that revolutionary ass. No, the struggle was the alcohol. When he was alone, it was harder, his lips craved and his need grew stronger and stronger. It wasn't so hard to stay sober with his friends. Cosette did her best to support him emotionally with words of encouragement and lots of comforting hugs when he was moody. Jehan had compiled a collection of poems about alcholism and depression, including a few he had written himself. Courfeyrac had a way of lifting his spirits just by being his best friend. With the reward system, Enjolras was lightening his load as well. His friends distracted him enough so that his urges didn't rule him. That's what made the night hard. But boy did he resist. He made more tea than he could drink in a lifetime, he watched comedies on Netflix and he painted pictures of bottles to keep himself busy. Needless to say, he was looking forward to his friends returning. 

It was nearly noon by the time Grantaire was waken by the gang noisly arriving home. He heard Courfeyrac singing some song from Newsies at the top of his lungs and Joly sneezing and the sweet sound of Enjolras scolding Gavroche. At that instant, he scrambled out of bed, stumbled into some jeans and hurried downstairs to greet them all. 

"Open the gates and seize the day!" Courfeyrac sang "Don't be afraid and don't delay! Nothing can break us, no one can make us give our rights away! Arise and seize the day!" 

"Put that God damn sling-shot away Gavroche, you're going to hurt someone!" Enjolras was obviously irriatated. "Grantaire!" His eyes lit up, giving away the butterflies accumulating in his stomach. 

"Welcome back, criminals!" Grantaire waved at them with a wide grin. Everyone gave him a hug on their way past him, well everyone besides Combeferre. Enjolras was the last one to pass, he waited to hug him until Courfeyrac was out of sight to avoid being whistled at. As soon as the playful boy danced off to the kitchen, Enjolras launched forward to hug him and attack his moist lips with his own mouth. "I take it you missed me?" Grantaire chuckled. Enjolras was at a loss for words, he didn't want to admit he missed his boyfriend even though he was only gone for a day. "Enjolras, I'm your boyfriend, you're allowed to miss me and love on me." Grantaire reminded. It wasn't Enjolras's fault, he had never expirenced a romantic relationship.

"I missed you." He sighed. 

"Well I missed you too." Grantaire kissed Enjolras, deep, passionate kiss. Nothing casual or chaste or lazy about it. "And I promise, I was a good boy while you were gone." 

"I guess we could give you an advance on your reward system calendar." Enjolras purred into Grantaire's ear. In truth, that shouldn't have turned him on, but Enjolras can make anything sound sexy. His voice had that quality, that strange beauty that could turn meaningless lyrics into a heartbreaking ballad on tone alone.

All the sudden, a snorting little giggle came from around the corner. "You guys thought I was gone!" Courfeyrac teased. Way to ruin the mood, buddy.

 

\--------

 

Pink was Musichetta's least favorite color, well at least the pastel kind she was sporting that rainy morning. Just in case there were people searching for her, Musichetta covered up and concealed her eyes with a pair of shades she snagged from Montparnasse's nightstand. 

Musichetta glided out of the car like a movie star, only she was slouching in her grunge and trying to keep dry. "I guess this is good bye?" Musichetta leaned over to the car window to look at an emotionally distraught Montparnasse with understanding pouring from her facial expression. 

"I guess." He kept looking forward, hands clutching the steering wheel. He was sure if he looked at her, he would burst into tears. 

"I'll see you Friday." She reached out to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. 

"Yeah, Friday." He sighed before pulling away from the curb. 

Montparnasse had dropped her off at the Musain as planned where a payphone was conviently located on the sidewalk in front of the cafe. Before she climbed out of the car, Montparnasse dug through his satchel and gave Musichetta some silver change to make a call. Musichetta popped a few coims into the slot. Payphones were so strange, no one used them any more and yet no one bothered to tear them down. What they really should have in their place are phone chargers. Those would be useful. The robotic beeping of the buttons under Musichetta's chubby fingers was the only clue that this was an operating payphone. She unhooked the phone and brought it up to her ear gingerly. 

"Hello?" Joly's congested voice was a sound she missed dearly.

"Joly!" She giggled with sheer joy. "It's Musichetta!" 

"No way!" He gasped. "Courfeyrac, if this is one of your tricks, I'll never forgive you!" 

"No, it's me! I promise you, honey!" Tears were dripping down her beaming face as she laughed at her beautiful Joly. "Can you come pick me up?" Musichetta asked, sure that he would readily agree. 

"Of course! Where are you?"

"The Musain." Musichetta heard Joly calling for Bossuet to get his rear in gear so they could get to the Musain.

"No time to waste, Bossuet!" Joly squealed. "Musichetta's at the Musian!" It made Musichetta's heart warm to hear Joly getting so excitted about someone like her returning. In truth, she never felt very important thanks to her shitty mom who had convinced her she was completely worthless. It took her until she met Joly to feel like someone could genuinely care for her. 

The cold was nipping at her small expanse of exposed ankle below the abrupt cut off of her jeans. It was about time she went inside the cafe to be embraced by it's welcoming warmth. She jogged inside, earning some snobby glances from little hipsters pretending they were social activists like Enjolras, their secret idol. Enjolras had quite the following. High school hipsters worshipped him via tumblr, instagram, facebook and his blog. Everyone wanted to be or be with the fearless hero, in fact, Grantaire got plenty of hate letters from obsessed fangirls in purple gel pens when he posted a picture of them together. None of these hipsters- one of which wearing a hoodie with Enjolras's face on it- seemed to recognize Musichetta, even though she is always at rallies with Enjolras and makes frequent appearances on his instagram when Courfeyrac hacks into it.

You would think the little yuppies would invade the meetings with flash photography and squealing, but Enjolras has the back room reserved. Thankfully it has a lock. Most of the fans just gave up, still closely stalking him online.

It was impressive how quickly Joly and Bossuet arrived at the Musain, bursting through the door. "Musichetta!" Joly cried, latching on to the girl in the pastel pink Disney hoodie she stole from Montparnasse. 

"Joly!" She shrieked, nuzzling into the nape of his neck. Her warm brown eyes flicked up to see a bald beauty, the love of her life (well, one of them), Bossuet. "Bossuet!" She groped his arm to yank him into the hug. "I missed you guys so much!" 

"Where the hell did you go?!" Joly demanded, suddenly, shrill. "You leave us for weeks and you don't give us a fucking call?" 

"Hey, I'm sorry." She defended herself. "I would have came back sooner but I had to sort through some stuff." 

A state of befuddlement clouded Joly's animated expression. "Why don't we just be glad we have her back?" Bossuet suggested gently as he soothed Joly who gave an understanding nod while letting off steam. "Now we can start our new lives together. We can be one hundred percent happy." 

"Our new lives together?" Musichetta repeated softly.

"We got to talking..." Joly mantained eye-contact with Bossuet, hoping for him to complete the thought.

"While you were away, we realized something." Bossuet cleared his throat. "We are both-" 

Spastically, Joly blurted out an interuption. "Madly in love with you!" 

What a wonderful feeling swirled about Musichetta, to be loved, to feel like she belonged somewhere, it was all quite new to her. Not only did one good guy want to treat her like a princess, but two amazing, more-than-worthy gentlemen were in love with her. "That's a very happy coinsidence." Musichetta blushed. "It just so happens, I'm madly in love with the two of you too." 

Not minding the condescending glowers from perfect strangers, the three hugged and traded needy kisses desperately.

That day was the start of something good.

\---------  
Courfeyrac will never forget how his heart sank when he saw Jehan weaving blooming flowers into a rope noose hanging from the ceiling. "Jehan!" He cried. The boy cast a glance to him, his eyes brimming with tears. He looked like a broken toy, he was so done, so desperate, so helpless and yet all you wanted to do was cradle him and fix all his problems. The brunette rushed over to his boyfriend to scoop him up into a protective embrace. "What are you doing?" 

"I wanted to make it pretty." He sniffled innocently. "That way you'd have something nice to look at when you found me." 

"I thought you were getting better. You promised me you weren't sad anymore." 

"I wasn't lying." He gaurenteed. "A few days makes all the difference for me." Courfeyrac snuggled with him on the bed, trying his best to aid him. But Courfeyrac was lost, he knew what to say to people with a sexuality crisis, he had been there before. However, he had no clue how to help someone who had gender-identity issues. You see, Jehan wanted to be a girl somedays, a boy other days, neither sometimes and both other times. If he could chose, he would have been born a girl but he still enjoyed being a boy too. He was Gender-Fluid.

"How long have you been like this, Jehan?" Courfeyrac was trying to keep him self from weeping, he couldn't imagine life with Jehan. 

"I've wanted to be a girl since eighth grade." Jehan sighed, inching closer to the safety of his boyfriend. "I've been on-and-off in my depression ever since." Courfeyrac had a hard time understanding depression, even when he was down, he had a natural sunny aura about him. With Jehan, it was the opposite; even at his happiest, there was still a mist hanging over him, a mist that he fought to escape but couldn't. "I used to always be on the phone. I would be in my room, talking until 2 in the morning. My Step-mom would come upstairs to my room yelling, 'Jehan Prouvaire, who the hell are you talking to this hour?' I would quick hang up and say, 'Rachel'" At first, Courfeyrac was glad to hear he was talking to a friend. But then, he continued. "I didn't have a friend named Rachel, in fact, I didn't have any friends at all." He rested his head on Courfeyrac's shoulder. "I was on the phone with the Suicide-Hotline." 

"Jehan, you're perfect." He insisted with a mix of calm and urgency in his melodic tenor voice. "Just because you don't fit into societies boxes, that doesn't mean you aren't the most beautiful person alive. You're special." 

"Maybe I don't want to be special!" Jehan snapped, breaking the embrace. "Maybe just for once I'd like to be normal, to belong, to just fit in!" Silvery tears streamed down his freckled face. "I'm so sick of being special. I used to like it and be so proud, but now, I'd give anything to just fade to the background, to just be another drop in the ocean." Courfeyrac had never thought of it that way, all his life, all he wanted was to stand out and shine as brightly as he could. How could someone wanted to blend in when they were destined for center stage? He stood up and began pacing the floor. "It's not comforting to be told I'm not alone because even with you and all the people like me, no one can take away how the demons eating away at me. No one can change how I feel when I look in the mirror or how I want to decide on one gender but can't. I will always be alone, even when I'm surronded with love." 

"I-I can help you." Courfeyrac was behind him, placing his hands on Jehan's hips, kissing down his neck.

"I know you want to." Jehan pulled away again. "But you can't. I'm trapped in my body."

"You can get surgery and treatment to be a girl. You can change your body to fit your mind." Apparently, Jehan didn't explain himself clearly, he's genderfluid which means his gender fluxuates, from male to female, nothing to both and everything inbetween. When he wakes up in the morning, he is terrified, wondering, worried about what gender he'll be.

"Can't you see? I don't want to be a girl, I don't want to change my body to fit my mind. I want to change my mind to fit my body. I want to accept myself as a boy and be done with this whole mess." Now he was at the window, he looked out at the winter that was quickly fading to spring with sorrow in the form of salty water pooling in his droopy eyes. "All my life I've been a freak. I remember I didn't want to survive, I wanted to live, but with this dragging me down, I couldn't live. The only other option was dying."

"Am I not making you happy?" Courfeyrac was at a loss, he couldn't save him. No one could. 

"Love, you're my greatest joy in life. You make the days worth the struggle and I am horribly in love with you." Jehan turned to smooch Courfeyrac. "But that doesn't always ease the pain. I remember once, in 8th grade, we were reading Romeo and Juliet. The teacher asked for volunteers to read parts from their desk. No one volunteered to read for Juliet, so I rose my hand. The teacher didn't see anything wrong with it, but when I was picked, people looked, and snickered, and whispered words I don't like. One girl, one stupid girl said, 'Why can't you just be a boy?' and I started sweating and hyperventilating and I ran to the bathroom to cry." That horrific tale made Courfeyrac's heart sink, they didn't even know how much it hurt him. Those ignorant childern probably didn't even remember what they did. And if they did, he hoped they were ashamed, especially that heinous girl.

"I will always protect you, no one will hurt you as long as I'm here." He swore with a trembling tone.

"You can't protect me from myself." Jehan retreated to his loving arms. 

"I'll try. I will do what ever it takes." Even though Jehan didn't see Courfeyrac fixing his issues, he was glad he was willing to help. It's comforting to know someone loves you no matter what gender you are. That's what Jehan really loved about Courfeyrac and at the same time feared, his bisexuality. "I have to go, Grantaire, Bossuet, Feuilly, Enjolras, Combeferre and I are going out for Bahorel's birthday tonight." 

Bahorel was doing something special for his birthday and not inviting the whole group? That's more than a bit rude. "Why wasn't I invited?" A sandy blonde eyebrow quirked into an arch. 

"Well, I didn't think you'd want to go. We're going to The Cat's Meow." The Cats Meow, conviently located across from the Cockpit, was the town's best and only strip club. It was home to a dozen of the town's skankiest girls with rocking bodies, dark make up and big hair. Since Jehan's not particularly into girls or exotic dancing, he would have to agree that he didn't want to tag along.

"A strip club?" His boyfriend, his bisexual boyfriend going to a strip club, shoving dollar bills done thongs and bras while a wild slut straddled his growing erection wasn't a comforting thought. That was one of his biggest worries. He feared Courfeyrac would leave him for a girl with bigger boobs than IQ. The stereotypical bisexual hops around from partner to partner, sleeps around and abandons meaningful same sex relationships in favor of traditional, more accepted romances. Courfeyrac had a flirty past, so Jehan wasn't sure if he was faithful. 

"Yeah. Is there a problem?"

Yes 

"No."

\------------

"This is the worst idea since the monarchy." Enjolras mjttered to Grantaire as they entered the club. Bold flashes of light illuminated the dark room where a runway extended into a crowd of tables. Poles shot out of the center of each sturdy plastic table and the sides of the main stage. Cages hung from the ceiling, ready to be lowered for Cage-Dance-Tuesdays. Fog, mingled with toxic smoke, floated in the mysteriously glittery atomosphere.

"Relax!" Grantaire said from the side of his mouth. "I promise this will be fun." An exotic dancer sauntered past, affectionately thumbing at Grantaire's stuble. 

"Hey sweetie, haven't seen you in ages." The striper had shoulder length dishwater blonde hair and too-heavy eyeliner making her greenish blue eyes pop. Her lips were lacquered in pink gloss. Everything about her was very feminine, from her posture to her revealing top. 

"Erin!" Grantaire beamed at the girl Enjolras wanted to help, being a striper was not furthering the cause, my friend! "You look hot!" That earned him a cold glare from Enjolras. "This is my boyfriend Enjolras." The girl gave him a kind smile with sparkling eyes and extended her long delicate fingers for a handshake. 

"Hi Enjolras, I'm Erin." She smiled. Her teeth where perfectly straight, probably from the work of braces as a teenager.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He turned on his charisma to appeal to the tragic young girl who looked so young and so weathered by her years.

"Wow, you're like super pretty! What're your perferred pronouns? What do you use on your hair?" Erin rambled.

"She tends to say exactly what she's thinking." Grantaire whispered into Enjolras's ear to inform him. Taking this as a cue to answer, Enjolras cleared his throat.

"Thank you. I perfer him/he/his and I use homemade shampoo and conditioner that my friend Feuilly makes." Enjolras answered. "And your perferred pronouns?"

The striper perked up even more if possible. "They/them/their, my good sir." The two looked at each other for a second, Enjolras felt them checking him out. "You know, you're like super hot, are you guys interested in a foursome with me and my girlfriend?" Before Enjolras could frantically decline, Erin was hollering at a girl doing very athletic things with a pole. "Hey babe! When do you get off?"

"In an hour!" She shouted back.

"Really, it's okay." Enjolras insisted while puncuating his speech with urgent gestures. "I'm gay anyways." 

"You're gay?" That surprised Grantaire, he knew Enjolras liked boys but he didn't know that he only liked boys. 

"Uh yeah. Girls just kinda-" He couldn't say it without sounding like a prick but it was the truth. "Turn me off."

"Boo!" Erin pouted. "Nice meeting you, Enjolras. See ya 'round 'Taire." 

As soon as Erin was out of ear-shot, Enjolras whipped his head with bountiful curls around. "If you come home with me, I'll give you an advance on your rewards." Enjolras pleaded.

"Are you bribing me?" Grantaire took on an overly melodramatic tone to fake being offended. "Enjolras, I assure you that is not how sexual relationships work!" He snickered at Enjolras's dropping face. 

Quickly, Enjolras revaluated his failed tactics and developed a new approach. He latched onto Grantaire affectionately, attempting to be as sexy as he could. (which was a struggle considering Enjolras was the most beautiful but least sexy person known to man) "Do I have to beg?" He whispered into Grantaire's blushing ear seductively. 

The next reward was labeled BJ, and we all know what that means, so Grantaire did not hesitate. "Did I say bribing? I meant 'Are successfully seducing me?'" Before they left, they wished Bahorel a happy Birthday. Enjolras had made some phony excuse about 'Strip clubs being demeaning to women' while Grantaire was very vocal on how Enjolras was going to suck his dick. 

"Well now that the lame guys left, it's time to get this party started!" Courfeyrac cheered. 

"Actually Courfeyrac, one more lame guy has to go," Bossuet, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, admitted. 

"What?" Courfeyrac dragged out the vowel for an emphasis only produced by sound effects on a sound board.

"Well Musichetta, Joly and I decided to explore polyamory and she just got back so I miss her." Bossuet half smiled. The lack of reaction to his announcement was sort of offensive. 

"Wait," Courfeyrac began. "You weren't dating before?" And that was better than any loud gasp, it showed that the group already thought they were compatible. 

"No we weren't. This is all very new. Happy Birthday, Bahorel." Bossuet hurried off, only slightly distracted by a dancer who beared the likeness of Musichetta. 

"That was special!" Bahorel took a satisfying sip of an out of character, feminine drink choice, an apple Martini. "Now, it's my Birthday, so go get me a God damn lap dance!" 

\---------

The night progressed and they frat-boy-like excitement of the nearly nude girls dwindled. Combeferre had long since left, perferring a book to sexy bodies twirling around cold, metal poles. However, Bahorel was still hooting and hollering as girls humped him. Courfeyrac, a seasoned pro of all things erotic, was run low on sexual drive, so he retired to a table with a rare, non-alcohol drink in honor of his best friend Grantaire. 

"I'm totally fucked." Feuilly feel into the chair beside Courfeyrac with an open bottle of beer to prove he was fucked enough to abandoned his promised sympathy dry-period. 

"What's got you down?" Courfeyrac got an odd sensation that this moment belonged in an old Western movie and Courfeyrac should be behind a bar, scrubbing it with a dingy old rag and sliding drinks Feuilly's way. 

"I'm in love." 

"Aww!" Love was one of those things that everyone 'Aww's' about. 

"Not 'Aww' you heartless bitch!" Feuilly whined in exasperation. "I'm in with a guy!"

"Yes! I knew we'd eventually make everyone in the group queer! Now all we have left are Bahorel, Combeferre and Marius!" Courfeyrac was alittle too excited for the possiblity of an all queer group. 

"That's sort of the problem, I love Bahorel, in the gayest way possible." Longingly, he glance at the wild boy surronded by a flock of strippers. 

"Tell him! In the words of Honey Boo Boo, 'Everyone's a little gay!'" Courfeyrac encouraged.

"No way!" Feuilly's eyes bulged. "There's no way he'd like a freckled mess like me!" 

"Freckled mess? First of all, you're friggin' adorable. Second of all, you're his best friend! Just do it! Besides, if it doesn't go well, he's probably too drunk to remember." Upon Feuilly's counter, Courfeyrac shooed him over to part the flock of strippers to ask Bahorel out. 

"Excuse me." He polietly squeezed past the ring of girls. The group was about three girls deep and a full 360° around Bahorel. But when he got through the glistening bodies, what he saw shocked him. A skinny little girl with dark skin was straddling his lap, kissing him senseless. O the agony! How it stung to see him with that girl! 

Somehow, Bahorel noticed Feuilly from behind the African-American beauty. "Hey Feuilly!" He took his hands off her chest to wave at him. "This is my new girlfriend Misty Rain." 

"It's Brittany." She corrected. 

Feuilly stuttered and tried to escape, only to feel trapped, watching Bahorel kiss this girl and listen to the meniacal laughter of the strippers closing him in. His head spun, he darted about, struggle to free himself from this Hell. "Let me out!" He wailed. "Move!" 

It wasn't until a friendly hand yankes him through the crowd to the outside world that Feuilly broke down. Courfeyrac hated seeing his friend so hurt, he wrapped his arms around him, promising everything would be alright. 

\-----------

3:17am.

Jehan was still alone in a bed built for two bodies to cuddle on. The thing keeping him awake was his looping thoughts on Courfeyrc. What was he doing? Maybe the better question was who was hep doing. The worries were tearing him apart, he needed to find Courfeyrac.

At lightening speed, Jehan hopped out of bed and traded in his pajamas for rust red skinny jeans and a sky blue sweater, oranmented with a furry white bunny.  
He bounded down the stairs with light feet and said a silent goodbye to the still sleeping house. 

Jehan refused to drive and tonight was no exception, the environment needs preservation, even in the dark. His bike was leaning against the garage, tangled in a mess of flowery vines. Not wasting any time, he yanked, he pulled, he ripped , he tore and eventually, he freed the bike from it's green shackles. The bike made a jangling noise as he leapt onto its seat and pedaled away into the damp darkness. 

Within 45 minutes, Jehan was slinging his bike lock around the bike's wheel and the metal arch in front of The Cat's Meow. The door burst open, Bahorel staggered out of it with an African American slip of a thing supporting his stumbling, drunken weight. They were laughing, Bahorel loudly and the girl exessively. 

Jehan snuck past Bahorel amd his laughing mistress undetected, but when he pushed the door open, he came gracelessly face to face with Courfeyrac. "Jehan!" He exclaimed. "What're doin' here?"

"I was looking for you!" Usually when Jehan spoke to Courfeyrac he had a sort of glimmer of love in his voice. But this time, Jehan had no love in his voice, he was worried and stern. Part of him knew Courfeyrac was cheating on him. 

"Whoa, what's wrong?" Courfeyrac placed a caring hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. 

"Don't touch me, you fucking cheater!" Jehan flicked Courfeyrac's hand away.

"Cheater?" That wounded Courfeyrac in ways he couldn't express, he was a loyal partner and he didn't cheat. 

"I knew I should'nt've tried to date a bisexual! You're all the same, you're all cheaters!" Tears came easy for the passionate poet.

"I did not cheat on you!" Courfeyrac was turning bright red. "And how dare you say that about my sexuality! I support you and love you regardless and all you do is judge and assume that if I'm out a little late I must be cheating on you! God! Get off your period!" 

He went silent. All Jehan could think is 'What kind of bastard tells a gender fluid person to get off their period? Who uses feminine health as an insult? Who the fuck does he think he is?' "I'm not on my period." Jehan growled. "I'm not a girl. I'm not a boy. So don't talk to me like that." Jehan stormed out, sniffling and devastated. 

He braced the bitter cold, it was warmer than Courfeyrac's unsympathetic heart. Tears blurred his vision as he fumbled with his bike lock, cursing and weeping. Just as he resorted to kicking the damn thing, someone tapped on his shoulder. 

"Hey." It was a soothing voice one that you could tell belonged to a singer with a beautiful, mature lyrical ring. Jehan turned around angrily. 

"What?" He spat. 

"You look a little rattled, you okay?" The person before Jehan bewildered him. They had a strong jawline that looked masculine and feminin blue eyes and thick juicy red lip gloss. They wore a grey V-neck with a funky pattern of silohuetted objects under an open black hoodie. For pants, they wore tight black skinny jeans that clinged to their long legs. 

"My boyfriend is a jerk." Jehan muttered. 

"Why?"

"He said something about me being a girl, which I'm not, and he knows I'm gender fluid!" He was so pissed that he didn't even care that this person was a complete stranger. 

"Gender fluid, eh?" They smiled. "Me too. Biologically speaking, I'm a girl and honestly I love it. I love my boobs, my legs, doing my hair, dresses and being a stripper. But somedays, like today, I bind, I wear beanies and I love all things manly. And other days I'm neither. Your boyfriend has no idea what he did to you, he may think he does but he'll never know the full affect. Being gender fluid is going to be an on going problem in your life. People are going to beat you down, even the people who love you unconditionally. The world is ignorant, we were created to educate it. You're strong, you'r patient, and I know you love him so you'll forgive him and help him understand." Jehan had never had anyone understand how he felt so well, this person was his savior that night. Without them, he would have probably ended it with Courfeyrac and sunk into depression until he suffered his enevitable suicide. 

All the sudden a gang of douchey gang of boys rounded the corner, laughing about some stupid joke their leader had made. "Not them." They groaned. 

"Look who it is guys!" He hollered as he started skipping towards them. "It's the freak who puts the 'T' in LGBTQFUPHDXYZ-who-the-fuck-cares! We've really missed talking to you tranny!" 

"Please, just leave me alone. I'm not bugging anyone." They tried to stand their ground.

"Well dickless wonder, maybe you're bugging me." He got in their personal space to intimidate them. 

"Look, I don't want any trouble. No offense, but I could take all of you." They tried to be brave. 

"Oh could you?" His friends chuckled at his rudeness. "What are your preferred pronouns again? 'It'?" 

"Do you want to fuck with me?" They clenched their jaw and balled up their fists.

"Not sure. I like pussy and from what I gathered all you havenis empty space between your legs." Suddenly, all their anger unleashed and they launched at the boys, punching and pushing and kicking until finally smacking the leader hard on his cheek bone with their boney knuckles. 

"Now scram!" She screamed.

"What's your name?" That's all he could say. Really Prouvaire? 

"Erin, here." They snatched Jehan's freckled arm and scribbled on it with a purple marker. "If youn need anything, that's my number. Just call." 

Bright smiles plastered on their faces, Jehan and Erin said their off-beat farewells and parted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you. Please comment thoughts on this chapter or this story in general. Love you all! Oh and btw I   
> have no problem with bisexuals as I am one. We aren't all cheaters!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some nice things in a tree about a character I've been favoring lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I should be studying but y'know I'm just not feeling it. Enjoy this chapter!

Joly shook his head and rolled his hazel eyes. "But we just got out of jail!" He complained after Enjolras announced they're next adventure: a sit in, in a tree. 

Jehan, who loved nature just as much as poetry and Courfeyrac, has learned of plans to clear cut a forest. The only sane way to react was to beg Enjolras to lead all their friends into the trees to protest wildly with neon signs and passionate howling. 

"I think it's a great idea." Courfeyrac kissed Jehan's freckled cheek with his soft, pink lips. "Trees need saving and we have just the bodies to do it." Raunchily, Courfeyrac accented the word 'Bodies' with a sexy body roll. 

"I do too!" Cosette chirped from Marius's affectionate embrace. 

"Nobody asked you, Cosette." Musichetta snarled with eyes casting a deadly glare her way. "This is a horrible idea! There is no way I'm camping out in a tree!" She snapped to her feet, effectively knocking the chair on the ground. "Maybe you assholes should focus on issues that actually fucking matter. People are being fucking raped out there and all you care about are dumb ass trees! You're all shits! Everyone of you." She pointed at Combeferre. "You're a pervy shit." Her finger moved to Enjolras. "You're a spoiled shit." Next victim was Grantaire. "You're a completely useless shit." Bahorel looked mortified by Musichetta's threatening finger pointing in his direction. "And you, your breath smells like shit." Where the fuck did this come from. "Musichetta out!" She snapped and left in a huff.

Scrambling, her boyfriends gathered their things and chased after her. Joly turned around quickly on his way out, clutching a text book to his chest. "Sorry, she's on her period." Joly scurried out the door, waving a Maxi pad in the air.

"Joly is the only male I know who carries Maxi Pads in his satchel." Eponine grinned stupidly. When Cosette got a little giggle out of her dumb joke, she nearly swooned. 

"Regardless of what Musichetta says, we are still doing this. It's important to Jehan so it's important to all of us." Enjolras was right. Jehan was their friend and if he wanted to do this, they were going to support him. Groaning, they all agreed that they would spend their hard-earned weekend in the uncomfortable limbs of a forest.

"GTG." Courfeyrac looked down at his phone.

"Did you seriously say 'GTG' aloud?" Combeferre asked with a frustrated, quirked brow. 

"The better question is did you?" About to reply with something intellectual and witty, Combeferre closed his eyes, opened his mouth and raised his index finger. Then he thought about it, he did say 'GTG' aloud. Ashamed, confused and a tad embarrassed, Combeferre hung his head to scan over an open book in his hands. "Anyways, I have to go to class and so d you 'Taire." He beckoned the curly haired cynic to follow. Grantaire snuck a kiss with Enjolras and trotted off with Courfeyrac. 

"And by the way," Enjolras whispered huskily. "I don't think you're worthless." Grantaire's mouth curved into something between a bright, optimistic smile and his usual smirk.

"I love you." It was quite the feeling to be able to publicly tell the man he loves his feelings without being scoffed at and finally feeling secure in those feelings being requited. 

Before he left, Courfeyrac crouched down to kiss Jehan's cheek. "Are you going to be okay while I'm gone." He forced a smile and nodded. "Are you sure? I can skip." As you can tell, Courfeyrac and Jehan made up. Jehan' biophobic remark still stung Courfeyrac wasn't a cheater and people who assumed bisexuals are unfaithful should rot. 

"No, school comes first Courfeyrac." Jehan quickly interrupted his protesting. "Priorities, love. Besides, I have Cosette to keep me company. Go on now, learn something!"

"Fine!" He sighed. "See you later. I love you." The meeting resumed and the team planned their environmental endeavor. Grantaire absent-mindedly began sketching signs with bold letters and striking slogans centered on them. With a still-pissed Musichetta in under his arm, Bossuet returned and Joly trailed behind with exactly one less Maxi Pad than before. Marius and Cosette were being adorable as usual by simply listening to Enjolras's yapping. How Eponine longed to be with one of them, either of them. Ever since they shared a nice moment behind bars, Eponine was in love with not only Marius, but the cute couple. There was a possibility that she could join them. I mean, Musichetta did that, right? 

Someone, a little girl we all know as Azelma, wanted to scream. Eponine was still with Combeferre and yet she was ogling at Marius and Cosette with an open mouth. Even though Combeferre got her pregnant, she still loved him. Combeferre was an all around good guy, she was certain he'd step in and be a father for the child and eventually they'd inch closer until they fell in love and got married. It's all going to turn out good.

\-----------

. Who the hell spends Friday night in a tree? Well apparently Les Amis do. Everyone besides Musichetta, Joly and Bossuet had agreed to protest in the trees. The sun was just dipping below the grassy horizon as the friends climbed into the trees, clinging to branches, earning scrapes, nearly falling and eventually, trying to get situated in such a manner that they would be sort of comfortable. 

"Signs?" Enjolras reached down to Grantaire who was carrying the signs on the dusty ground below. 

"Here you are, my great Apollo." Grantaire teased, handing them up. Sparkling blue eyes rolled at the nickname, Enjolras snatched the signs and turned away so he wouldn't see him blush.

Gavroche swung from the limbs of the tree wildly, hooting and hollering like some sort of holligan. "Gavroche!" Eponine scolded. "You stay sitting on that damn branch, or so help me God, I will take you home right this instant." Gavroche hissed at her and perched himself on the branch. 

"I wish I was a tree." Jehan had found the ideal crannie to burrow into with Courfeyrac, they were going to be the most comfortable at this sit in. 

"Why's that?" Courfeyrac beamed at Jehan who seemed happier than usual today. If Jehan was cheerful, Courfeyrac went into a state of euphoria.

"Leaves." He said plainly, petting the delicate, green, spade-shaped leaves that ruled the branches. "I would want leaves to cover all the bad bits of me." Jehan looked over his little frame in search of the flaws he knew so well. One day he would greet them like old friends, but for now he didn't like any of the things that made him imperfect. "Trees don't have a gender and they're always pretty, even when they are old and withered. I want to be beautiful all my life." He mourned the looks he would lose over time. "Trees aren't judged or bullied. They are carefree. All the have to do is let the flowers blossom." Every word Jehan said was so bittersweet. Jehan himself was a tragedy, a butterfly who had convinced themself they are a moth. So insecure, so wanting to belong. Jehan had no gender, he was beautiful that way but he wanted to dull his vibrancy to blend in. Sure it would be nice to fit in, but what fun would that be? 

"I love you." Courfeyrac pulled Jehan close to feel his heart beating, to feel he was alive still, at least physically. 

Now that everyone had settled into the trees, Enjolras passed out the signs, a few megaphones and words of encouragement. "No matter what they say, they won't hurt us. We're the revolution, they can't touch us." Each sign was decorated with one of Grantaire's lame tree puns that Courfeyrac helped to inspire. 'Don't make the trees leaf!' one said. 'Oak no you cannot cut this forest down!' another read. 'We're on pines and needles here! Save the forest!' Oh those puns! While everyone got a kick out of the dumb slogans, Enjolras was unimpressed. 

"Now what?" Gavroche asked with a twinkling of excittement filling the young soul. 

"Now," Enjolras turned to the boy. "We wait."

\-----

Waiting wasn't anyone's favorite thing. Enjolras passed the hours by pacing below the tree, very concerned with the lack of confrontation. By the time the sun was fully set and the stars gleamed in the dark blue sky, Jrhan had covered everyone's visible skin in swirly letters that came together to spell delicious words, words that linked together to make magnificent lines that stacked into stanzas, creating heart-breaking poems. All of which sweeping metaphors for gender-identity issues. 

Now the air was bitter cold, Cosette was smart enough to have brought piles of thick, wool blankets. "I brought one for everyone!" She handed out one neatly folded blanket to everyone, most opted to share with their lover so she draped the remaining on the branches to serve as walls. Everyone getting comfy in their blankets was Courfeyrac's que to take out his guitar and strum some campy little tunes while Cosette lit a lantern to hang from a central limb. Feuilly hummed a melody line over top of Courfeyrac's rythmic chord progression. All that was missing was Enjolras.

Enjolras was determined to pace below until his legs gave out under him, so that left Grantaire to cuddle with Azelma. Eponine and Combeferre were keeping there distance and Gavroche, despite telling Courfeyrac he could stay up all night, had fell asleep in Bahorel's lap. 

"Enjolras is a good guy." Marius yawned. "Scary, but good." 

"He's always been a fierce friend, always there for all of us." Feuilly said, interupting his soothing humming. "Combeferre, you're his best friend! Tell us your favorite Enjolras story." He urged. A chorus of agreement broke out in the tree.

"Alright fine." Combeferre took his glasses off to polish the lenses. "It was senior year..."

\----

Combeferre and Enjolras's senior year was bursting with extra curiculars. It was one final push to create an even more impressive college application for the both of them. Despite being Student Body President, valedictorian, Enjolras will always be best known for the last debate of his high school career. 

It was Nationals. The entire team had been preparing for this moment all year and here it was, deep in the concrete jungle they call New York. Enjolras was the star of the debate team- with Combefere nipping at his heals -so they pinned him against Larry Brickner, the star debator from the competitors school. The school which had won nationals six years in a row. It was Larry against Enjolras for the final round, whoever won more debates out of the three would win the entire competition for their team. 

Enjolras took his place behind a podium, a place he felt so confident behind. He wasn't like those nervous kids who coward behind the cherry wood that smelled of fresh polish. It was a quality Combeferre admired. Even though Combeferre looked confident during debates, he was freaking out inside and worried that he might be visibly shaking. (Enjolras assured him he never was) 

The would have three short debates within the final round, all with the same star-players facing off. Combeferre watched from the wings as Enjolras and Brickner shook hands. The thing about Enjolras was when he shook Larry's hand and wished him luck, he meant it. Larry narrowed his eyes, Enjolras beamed. Larry snarled, Enjolras glistened. Enjolras was charming but capable of terrible things. 

The first debate went well, Enjolras countered each of Larry's arguments with ease. But the second debate didn't go as great. The topic was unknown to Enjolras so he had weaker arguments, causing him to lose miserably. 

There was still one debate remaining. One final chance to win. "The topic is," The moderator cleared his throat and scanned an index card between his fingers, coated in unruly knuckle scruff. "Same-sex marriage." A few gasps came from the conservative audience. "Brickner, you will be on the affirmative, Enjolras, you will be the opposition." 

Opposition. The word pierced into Enjolras unexpectedly. How could he fight against something he believed in so strongly? How could a homosexual become homophobic for a trophy? There was no doubt he could make winning argument for either side and easily coast to a victory by quoting the bible and bringing up AIDs, but did he want to to win so badly that the would go against his own principles and abandoned his beliefs? 

No.

Larry didn't look all that pleased with the topic either. He rolled his eyes and mutter under his breathe, "No way in hell I can defend the faggots." Enjolras was sure he was the only one that heard that, but he gave him a glare that was more powerful than an entire room of disapproval. 

The debate began, and despite the lack of passion, Larry presented his side well enough. Now it was Enjolras's turn. Feeling sick, Enjolras scanned the room, he needed a way out! His parents were in the seats. It was the first time his Dad had carved into his schedule to watch Enjolras debate and he was standing behind the half open door at the top of the stairs making an important call on how his company was going to lay off 300 people so they could go on a golfing retreat. Combeferre couldn't believe Enjolras was choking, mostly because he wasn't. 

"Mr. Enjolras? It's your turn." The moderator prodded. Hopefully Enjolras wouldn't live to regret this. 

"No it's not." Enjolras suddenly destroyed the tense silence that was only filled by the arrogant joking of his father on his phone. 

"Excuse me?" The moderator ventured. 

"You heard me." He was more confident that time. "I refuse to argue against something I believe in. My apologizes to my team, but my integrity is worth more than a plastic trophy." His father snuck into the auditorium, hanging up, a bushy eyebrow quirked. 

"I have to go, Elaine." He murmured. 

"Sweetie? Are you okay?" His mother tweeted in her pitchy little tone.

"Enjolras, I'm glad you are an Allie but this ridiculous." The moderator admitted.

"I'm not an Allie. I'm gay. I lose because there is no argument against same-sex marriage, no valid ones." Without another word, Enjolras walked off the stage to face the backlash from his team. 

"What they fuck were you thinking?" A petite emo girl squealed as she swatted at him. 

"You just throw our only chance!" The teacher scolded. 

"I wasn't going to argue against something I believe in." 

"This is debate, Enjolras. You do what they tell you to do and you win." The teacher yelled. "Do you think you're the only one who has ever had to debate against something they support? That was pretty damn selfish of you, faggot!" 

"You're a teacher!" Enjolras bellowed. "Shouldn't you be glad I have morals? Shouldn't you support my decision? Shouldn't you be against bullying? Obviously not since you just used such foul language." Enjolras pushed past the infuriated team and was met by his parents.

"That was quite the stunt, young man!" His mother squeaked. "That desperate cry for attention could ruin us, Enjolras! Do you not care about our image?"

"Maybe if it was a positive one." He plowed past her, only to be stopped by his father. 

"I am so ashamed of you." 

"Now you understand how I've always felt about you." No one could keep Eniolras from getting as far away from that building as possible. 

"Enjolras!" A voice that didn't register as angry called after him. Afraid it would be more ridicule, Enjolras whipped around with a severe look on his marble face. Even such an ugly expression could not deter from that face. The voice belonged to a boy who used to be gangly and awkward but recently became handsome and a bit of a hot nerd. It was Combeferre.

"Look, if you came to yell at me, I'm not in the mood. I don't care if you don't want to be friends anymore, I had to do that." Enjolras squinted his eyes trying to release stress. 

"I know." Combeferre said meekly. "That was really brave. You did the right thing." For the first time in a long time, Enjolras broke down into tears and hugged Combeferre. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to let go.

\------

"Coolest thing Enjolras ever did." Combeferre reminisced fondly.

A devilish smile snuck onto Courfeyrac's adorable face. "That's not the coolest thing Enjolras has ever done!" Cosette frowned. 

"I don't know. Courfeyrac, that's pretty hard to top!" 

"But not impossible!" He handed his guitar off to Grantaire. "Clearly, Cosette, you never heard the story I like to call 'Enjolras and the Great Bath Room Adventure'"

"Not again!" Grantaire groaned.

\--------

Just a few months ago, Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Enjolras went to a One Direction concert. Courfeyrac is a huge Directioner and he came across a few tickets. Everyone else refused to go, if this occurred a little later, he would have took Cosette and Marius, but he had not stumbled into his life yet. Naturally, he convinced Combeferre with a bit of whining and threats. Combeferre had one condition: only if you convince Enjolras to go too. That would get him out of it! There was no way Enjolras would ever agree. 

Until he did. 

Somehow, Courfeyrac found a way to brain wash Enjolras and get him to agree to join them. So, clad in matching booty shorts and fan tee-shirts that Courfeyrac  
selected, they set out. 

The entire ride, Courfeyrac rocked out to some of his favorite boy bands from the backseat to get himself in the mood. "You are my fire!" He belted, stroking Combeferre's face! "My one desire!" Courfeyrac clung to Enjolras, who pouted in the passenger seat. 

"This is the worst idea-"

"Since the monarchy!" Courfeyrac mocked him in a proper british accent.

"I don't have an accent!" He complained. Combeferre smiled at his best friends having some playful banter next to him. 

When they arrived, Courfeyrac was at home with his kind. Screaming, over dramatic, hyped up teenie-bopper girls, freaking out about some cute boys that resemble Ken dolls. The stench of fruity perfume, hairspray and desperation hung in the smoking arena, a threat to Enjolras's well-preserved lungs. 

Honestly, it went pretty well. Until a child approached Enjolras. She was a sassy little brunette with glow braclete's around her wrist and a home made fan-shirt. "Are you a boy or a girl? Because boys aren't suppose to like boy-bands." She folded her arms across her perfectly flat chest. 

"Excuse me, citizen, gender norms are poisioning society. Please try not to add to that." Enjolras tried not to flare into an angry fit. 

"Well, girls and boys have there place. You don't need to pretend your special, dumb-bunny." This girl watched one too many episodes of Icarly! 

"Is that a challenge?" He growled. The sticky girl nodded. 

"Watch and learn." Enjolras started off to the bathroom.

"Enjolras!" Combeferre called, he could not let Enjolras do anything reckless like usual. "Where the hell are you going?" 

"The Women's Restroom." He made a face like 'Not sure why, but the little bitch challenged me.' and shrugged. 

"Ah hell yeah! You go 'Jolras!" Courfeyrac cheered.

"Don't encourage him." Combeferre moaned after completely giving up. Steathily, Enjolras slinked into the bathroom with a little white figure in a dress on the blue plaque. Combeferre closed his eyes and buried his head in his palm. Why did he tolerate his friends? 

There was a moment where none of the observers dared to breath. And then, the worst happened. Squealing, breakingbthe sound barrier came blarring rrom that particular bathroom. A flood of girls rushed out, Enjolras being pushed down stream with them. It was an odd mix of contrasting emotions. Half of the fangirls where shrieking because: Ew, boy in the bathroom. The other portion was freaking out because: Omg! Omg! He's cuter than Harry Styles!

"Fear not, Citizens! I mean you know harm!" He announced. After word got out about his journey to the bathroom, they were kicked. Courfeyrac didn't mind of course, he had the story of a life time.  
\----

"And that is the funniest Enjolras story ever!" Courfeyrac threw his back and broke out in hysterical laughter. He took his guitar back from Grantaire so he could pick up a new tune. 

"Do you not remember that time Enjolras met Winkie?" Bahorel scoffed. Winkie is Bahorel's beloved Corgie, not the most manly dog but fuck gender norms! He loves Winkie and that's all that matters.

"Oh!" Courfeyrac giggled. "That's a good one!" 

"Wait, what happened when he met Winkie?" Marius prompted Bahorel to collect himself before telling the story. 

\----------

"You can wait in the car." Bahorel mumbled. He and Enjolras were carpooling to a yoga class (Yes, yoga because even boxers need some unwinding and stretching) that they signed up for together at the YMCA. Of course, Bahorel forgot to grab his sweatband, so they had to drive back to his house so he could find it. 

"It's fine." Enjolras wandered his crammed, disorderly living area until he stumbled upon an energetic little dog. "Eek!" He sprang off the dingy carpet. 

"Dude, calm yout tits, it's a dog." Bahorel rolled his eyes. "Didn't you have a dog growing up?" Honestly, no. Enjolras didn't really have any experience interacting with dogs or really animals of any kind. This crazy, overgrown rat certainly wasn't somethimg Enjolras wanted to befriend. "Alright, Winkie, be nice, he's scared." 

"Winkie, that's a new nickname." The look of pure befuddlement on Enjolras's handsome face only added to Bahorel's fristration with Enjolras's idiocy.

"That's the dogs name, dumbass." He scratched behind the dogs triangular ear. "Don't be afraid, she just wants to lick you." 

"Lick it?" Enjolras gasped. "I most certainly do not! And you got my preferred pronouns wrong!" Bahorel quirked an eyebrow into a harsh arch. "Oh, you were talking to me this time." 

Enjolras awkwardly staggered to his knees and robotically reached out to stroke Winkie's plush coat with a stiff, unsure palm. "Hello, Citizen." 

A frustrated sigh blew out from Bahorel's chapped lips. "Do you even know how to touch a dog?" He shook his head. "Like this." He itched behind her ears, ruffled her fluffy fur and pet woth a stylish, practiced wrist finess. "Such a good girl! Yes, who's my good girl? My Winkie-binkie-dinkie-pinkie! So cute! So cute! Give Daddy kiss!" The dog obidently gave Bahorel's coarse cheek a loving lap. "Oh, yes! Kisses! I wuv kisses!" In awe, Enjolras stared at Bahorel. How the fuck did he do that? "That's how it's done, son. I'm gonna find my sweatband, you're gonna stay her a master the art of talking to a dog. And don't bring up animal rights, please."

The boxer hurried up the stairs, leaving Enjolras with the slobbering Winkie. Bahorel scrambled to find his sweatband. He tore through his drawers, cleared his cluttered desk and finally ripped his closet apart until he found it around his forehead. Why the hell didn't He or Enjolras realize it was there? Anyways, he sped down they stairs with one hand hovering above the railing for safety purposes. 

The most horrific scene was playing out before him when he rounded the corner. It was like really bad porn. It was disgusting and still you couldn't look away. 

"Oh yeah!" Enjolras growled in voice that belonged in the bedroom during rough sex. "You like that? Huh? Faster? Harder? Kiss Daddy. You're such a good girl, such a- ohhhh yeah." He moaned as her tongue slide across his face. 

"What the fuck?" Bahorel's eyes grew wide. "Why are you talking dirty to my dog?" 

"That's what you told me to do!" 

"No! It's not!" 

\-------

"I pissed myself." Bahorel cackled. "Twice!"

"Personally, I like the first day of school each year when Enjolras would give a ten minute lecture on how to properly pronounce his name." Jehan beamed. 

"No, I have a cute story about Enjolras." Eponine piped up. 

\----  
Long days at the cafe were being to wear poor 'Ponine down. If she had to make one more extrazagent coffee, someone was going to get stabbed. This all happened about a week after she met Enjolras. Grantaire and Courfeyrac had known him for at least a year, Eponine just got the joy of knowing him at the last meeting at the Musain. She knew all about Grantaire's mega crush as well as the interesting dynamic between him and the godly Enjolras. 

Today, Enjolras was sitting alone at the cafe with his laptop open on the table and a piece of scratch paper laid in front of it. Feverishly, Enjolras scratched the sheet with his pen while scrolling downward and reading some article on screen. Headphones were stuffed in his ears and he was out of it. Not paying attention to his surroundings was one of Enjolras's talents when he was focused. Enjolras's natural, relaxed facial expression was a frown paired with an angry, clenched brow.

All the sudden, a gust of frigid wind whooshed into the cafe along with a slim, pale boy with greasy, black curls topping his head. Eponine gave lazy to Grantaire as he evened out his pace to a walk. Grantaire approached Enjolras. Already irritated, Enjolras gazed up at him. 

Eponine couldn't hear what Grantaire was saying and clearly, neither could Enjolras. What they could both see was Grantaire, frantically pointing at the ground. Enjolras looked down at the spot Grantaire was pointing at, expecting to see something pervy Grantaire had set up. But he didn't find anything so he popped out his earbuds.

"What?" He said, perfectly deadpan.

"You dropped your smile, beautiful." At first, Eponine was sure Enjolras would chastise Grantaire and shoo him but then, the unthinkable happened. Enjolras smiled, even chuckled at Grantaire's cuteness. For the rest of Eponine's shift, the two held a conversation without breaking out into an argument. That was the moment Eponine thought Enjolras and Grantaire could be.

But she had only seen them together for a week. Each catastrophic fight ripped apart her dream more and more until she was certain Grantaire would have to find some way to move on.

\-------

After hours of dark night had come and gone with magical memories about Enjolras making them fly by, a bulldozer finally approached. "Citizen!" Enjolras greeted loudly. "We will not be moved!" 

"Save the forest. Save the forest. Save the forest." They chanted. 

A big important business, CEO type guy stepped forward out of a crowd of burly men in neon yellow vests and orange hard-hats. Even though he was actually a police officer, the guy seriously looked like he belonged in a cubical. Feuilly looked at him with a dangerous glare that read: "So you're the 1%?"

"Citizens!" The businessy guy called. Enjolras was stunned, did he just use his word? Did he call his friends citizen? He looked back at Grantaire for reassurance because he was just so agog. "As cute as your little protest may be, work needs to be done. Cutting these trees isn't the end of the world. It creates jobs, it moves people, money, ideas. Surely you'd like that?"

"Cute?" Bahorel hissed. 

"We will not surrender!" Enjolras cried. 

"Sweetheart," The business man began sarcastically. "how old are you? Sixteen?"

"Twenty-two." Enjolras spat. 

"Hear that, Jim! Only three years off!" Combeferre gaped at that marginal mathematical error. "Anyways, you're just a boy. We are men. You queer, hippies who are all SO bohemian should get a move on if you know what's good for you." 

"Is that a threat?" Enjolras narrowed his glistening blue eyes, turning to scary-jolras quickly. "We are the future!" He hollered, now just feet away from the professional man. Up close, he wasn't big or intimidating, he was just another rich cowatd, relying on security in case things got out of hand. 

"You'll the past if you don't get out of here!" He snarled. "We've warned you. Now move!" 

"Do you hear the people sing?" He shot in a low, threatening voice. 

"What?" He breathed.

"I said: Do you hear the people sing." His voice was even more severe. The business man laughed in his face and turned to the men behind him to cue them to join. 

"What's with this kid?" He chuckled. "Are all homos like this? Gosh, they're all dramatic, physco teenage girls inside, right?" 

"I'm more of a man than you'll ever be." Enjolras hummed lethally. "We're not leaving."

"Actually," Two voices said in unision. Enjorlas turned to see Azelma clutching her round stomach. 

"We have to go." Combeferre instructed from Azelma's side. "Her water broke." Enjolras doesn't know a whole lot about the female reproductive system but he was almost sure that baby wasn't done cooking quite yet. 

"Can't she hold it?" He whined. 

"What do you think? Azelma sassed. With a heavy sigh, Enjolras dismissed his troops and gave this fight.

"This isn't over!" Enjolras promised the officer. 

"I think it is. But just incase, here's my card. Hopefully you remember me from your last run-in with the law." 

Enjolras snatched the card. It read: Police officer and I'm Javert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could use some feedback! Please and thank you.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azelma falls in love, Courfeyrac is horny (so is Enjolras) and Eponine is mad over that Cosette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided everyone is just gonna have sex. Sounds fun, yes?

24 weeks. That can't be enough time to go from a few simple cells to a functioning little person. He was so small, her fingers microscopic, his toes stubby and just inches long and pounds heavy. 50% of all babies born after 24 weeks of pregnancy live, the others don't survive. 

Azelma looked at him, connected to a system of tubes and wires in side a little see-through box. The nurse covered his head in a powder blue hat to indicate his sex. His box had a name tag that read simply: Thenairder, Oliver. Tears stained her sweaty cheeks as she admired him. 

"Hi." Azelma whimpered. "It's me." This snuck up on Azelma so fast, she hadn't had time to make arrangements for an adoption or anything. She was on her own now, with this tiny miracle that might not make it. "You don't kniw this yet, but I love you more than I ever though I could. I didn't think I'd feel this way about something that caused so much trouble." Of course she was going to be real with him, he's her son! 

During delivery, Combeferre held her hand and comforted her. But then Oliver was taken away and she cried herself to sleep. The man was gone by the time she opened her eyes again. Now she was alone, listening to the soothing rythm of the heart monitor. 

"Hey," A manly whisper approached. A mournful Azelma turned to see who was there. It was Combeferre. He looked nervous, embarassed but ready to comfort her. "How's he doing?"

"He's alive." That was all she knew. "You know, I used to think it would be better if I was without him, but now, after I've seen him, I can't bare him leaving. Why is that?" To Azelma, Combeferre knew everything about the world, which was nearly true. Combeferre knew the answer to her question.

"Love." He put simply. "Before he was born, you didn't love him. How could you? He tore your life apart. Now you realize he is more than a regret. He's your son." 

There he goes again! That Combeferre, he's always right. "This is all my fault." She admitted as her weeping picked up again. Quickly, Combeferre wrapped his arms around her, and nuzzled into her neck. 

"No, no, no. You had no control over this." He shushed the frail, trembling child in his masculine arms. 

"Yes I did! If I didn't manipulate you into fucking me, we wouldn't be in this mess." 

"Hey!" He suddenly became stern. "I believe this wasn't an accident. I may be logical but I believe in fate and this is fate. Now this baby is ours and he has a 50% chance of survival and in my book that's pretty good. Not the best and certainly not fair, but if we hadn't had sex that night, he'd have no chance. The fact that he has any chance at life at all is a miracle to me." 

"You're the best, you that?" Azelma clung to him, not wanting to ever let go. 

"I'm glad I could help." He casually side stepped the praise as usual. 

\----------

It was a long drive up to Jehan's stately childhood home. At least the scenery was attractive and Courfeyrac was with the love of his life, Jehan. "So, let me get this straight." Courfeyrac began, gripping Jehan's hand. "You want to introduce me to your dad who you still haven't come out to? Y'know this will blow your secret." 

With a bright grin, Jehan said, "Yes, I realize that. But, I don't care. You're the love of my life and I won't to show you off." Up until this point, Courfeyrac had doubts that Jehan was proud to be with him. Jehan had always seemed so innocent, refined and like he'd end up with spme amazing guy who popped out of a sappy romance novel, not some quirky, cute cartoon character like Courfeyrac. But Jehan had a way of surprising him.

Still fighting off jittery nerves, the couple arrived at Jehan's home. They intended to stay over that night and celebrate Jehan's father'a birthday. Jehan told his dad and step-mother he was bringing his friend, Courfeyrac, a boy they had heard about before. You may not know this, but Courfeyrac is a bit of a celebrity. He is known for being radical, untamed, charming. People know him from a news story about him being a rebelious, bisexual, bratt from when he could tottle around the playground. It was safe to say that Jehan's dad wasn't thrilled that Jehan had made friends with the local freakshow.

When they came inside, the house was empty. There was a note on the counter explaining they had left to Walmart to pick up a few things for Mr. Prouvaire's birthday dinner.

"I guess it's just us." Jehan crumpled up the note and tossed it into the trash. "We should make some lunch for them, the note says they could be home as soon as 12:30pm." The digital clock on the oven displayed the time 11:27 in bright green numbers. 

"Looks like we have some time on our hands." Courfeyrac flashed his charming, bright white teeth that contributed to his uber cute model face. 

"What d'you want to do?" Jehan asked shyly as his boyfriend came close, brushing away his light brown strands of hair and taking his delicate hands. Forwardness aside, Jehan loved when Coufeyeac tried to get into his pants, it made him feel desirable. 

"First," His voice went husky. "I want you to kiss me." Jehan popped up to his tip toes to plant a chaste smooch on Courfeyrac's inviting lips.

"There." He said, almost teasingly. 

"That hardly counts. You're a good kisser, don't make me beg." He smirked. 

"Courfeyrac, I grew up here! We can't just makeout in my childhood home! What if the cat sees?" He wriggled out of Courfeyrac's slim, waxed arms effortlessly. 

"You're cat's been dead for four years." Courfeyrac countered as he inched closer to his prey.

"She watches from beyond!" He warned in his creepy voice that he reserved for moments where his dark side emerged.

"She'll keep our secret." Scooping Jehan up and setting him on the counter, the curly haired flirt insisted. Lips clashed together before Jehan could protest. So sweet the taste of Courfeyrac's mouth messaging his soft lips, but he had to pull away before he got to excitted. 

"What if they come home early?" Jehan asked. Instead of verbally answering, Courfeyrac yanked Jehan off the counter and into his cradling, loving arms. He brought them to Jehan's dad's office where he haphazardly cleared the cluttered desk with one sweeping arm motion. 

"Jehan Prouvaire, I'm fucking horny. Let's have sex." And for some unexplainable reason, that was the most romantic thing Jehan had ever heard. 

\------------------

 

Buzzing like a bee, Cosette glided across the floor of the kitchen. She was finishing up her chores and preparing some tea simultaniusly and also working arpund Marius who was trying his very best to help. An exhausted Eponine, clad in an army green hoodie, sat on a stool across the counter from Cosette's business. 

"Y'know, Eponine," Cosette scrubbed the grimy counters with a coarse sponge. "You really should go see your sister. She just had a baby."

Even though Cosette was the cutest human alive, Eponine was sort of sick of her trying to get her to bond with Azelma. Maybe she didn't want to play nice. Azelma had sex with her boyfriend! Sure he was meaningless, but that doesn't give her underaged ass the right to screw with him. Combeferre wasn't even remotely attractive to Eponine. A lot of people though he was some extremely sexy nerd, but Eponine wasn't into to nerds. She liked delicate little flowers like Marius and now, Cosette. 

"I'm aware of the situation." She grumbled. 

"Honestly, you guys shouldn't be at war with each other, she needs her big sister, especially now. I know she did something, what she did I habe not been told, but whatever it is, you guys have to work it out. You can't just shut her out." Cosette's eyebrows curved to show sympathy for the little skank. 

"We can't work it out." Eponine swore as Cosette helped Marius wirh the dishes. 

"So you're just going to give up?" She turned to Marius. "Honey, circular motions." Determined, Marius began wiping the plate with vicious rings of bubbly water, his tongue peeking out of his lips in focus. "She's your sister, 'Ponine!" She cried. 

Just then, the plate being attacked by Marius was split in two by his scrawny power. "Frickety frickety frack!" 

"Oh, sweetie, go sit down, I'll take care of the rest." At first, Marius being to rotest, but then he realized he wasn't much of a help and getting out of Cosette's way would be for the best. "Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta are headed over to the hosptal in a few minutes, you should go."

"Not feeling it." The tea kettle let out a growing, shrill cry to announce it was at the ideal temperature. Not wasting any time, Cosette scrambled toward it and rationed it between a few ceramic teacups.

"For you, my love." Cosette presented Marius with a teacup and her enchanting smile. They blushed at eachother when their fingers touched as he took the cup. Next, Cosette snagged a cup for Eponine and held it out in front of her. Eponine reached for it. "Not uh-uh." She retracted. "Promise me you'll go see your sister." 

"Cosette-" She whined.

"Promise!" She demanded sternly. 

"Fine, I'll go see the little whore." Eponine snatched the tea grumpily and took a long pissy sip. 

"Thank you, 'Ponine." Cosette leaned forward to give Eponine's forhead a gentle kiss. Her whole face went red. "Now, where's Gavroche, I have to make sure he gets his vitamins." 

 

\---------------

 

Before Azelma left for the hospital, she told Grantaire to paint the tiny box of a room tjey had designated to serve as a nursery. Since Enjolras was taking a mandatory study break, (Combeferre requires him to take a break at least once every eight hours) Grantaire convince him to help. Well, mpre like forced him. 

"Why did you wait until the last minute to do this?" Enjolras complained, setting paing cans on the newspaper covered wood. 

"The whole premature labor was sort of a surprise." Grantaire smirked. "Besides, I was busy with classes."

"That you're failing." Enjolras teased.

"I'll have you know that I'm passing all my classes because I'm fucking talented." Grantaire jabbed the lid with a screwdriver. The other boy crouched down to meet his vibrant blue eyes. 

"Yes you are. And don't you forget it, Grantaire." Enjolras assited Grantaire in plucking off the thin, tin lid. Under the lid was a horrendous shade of pastel yellow that looked like someone blended up a baby chick, minus the guts. 

"What the fuck kinda color is that?" Grantaire dipped his finger into the butter colored liquid. He had never been a fan of pastels, he liked bold colors or once vibrant, but now faded pigments. 

"It's a gender nuetral baby color." Enjolras tried not to let Grantaire's rudeness agitate him. 

"Combeferre texted us all that it's a boy." He reminded him.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we have to throw it in the his face. These are the baby's most formitive years, we should be forcing him into any gender." Oh, right. Grantaire forgot his best friends were a bunch of insane social activists. 

"Fine, we'll paint the kids room fairy-piss yellow." Grantaoire dumped some of the bucket into the slanted roller pan. "But their is no stopping me from painting a firetruck on that wall." 

The blonde rolled his glimmering blue eyes. "Couldn't you paint something a little more gender nuetral?" He whined as Grantaire began sketching on the open surface of the wall. At that comment, Grantaire stopped and looked at Enjolras with an expression Enjolras knew all to well. It was that, 'What did you just say that I can use against you to make you sound like a bigot, you pretentious prick.' Enjolras could smell a fight approaching. 

"What makes a firetruck not gender nuetral?" Grantaire tossed his pencil aside. "Do you think it's not as feminine as it is masculine?" 

"Please, Grantaire, not now." The number of fights they had expenentially decreased since they started dating and Enjolras was even more adverse to letting one happen.

"No, I'm thinking now." Grantaire pursed his lips, looked at the ceiling and nodded, thoughtfully. "So do you, Mr. I'm-so-politically-perfect, think women can't be firefighters? Do you want the little kid living in this room thinking that way too?" Enjolras could tell that Grantaire know that's not how he meant it, but was just looking for a fight. 

"You can paint your fucking firetruck, just drop it." Enjolras tried to contain his boiling, blistering rage.

"Are you afraid of being wrong?" Grantaire challenged with a taunting smirk. 

"No!" He scowled. Closing his eyes and taking a deep, supported breath, Enjolras cooled down. "I'm afraid of losing you. When we fight, I worry that I'll lose you. I don't want that, I'm rather attached to you, actually." That was all Grantaire needed to abort the fight and remember that he had Enjolras, he could stop being an ass and trying to get his attention. 

"Sorry for being a jerk. I love you." Grantaire embraced Enjolras, feeling his warmth, his muscular body with it's sculpted details. He cherished the feeling of Enjolras being affectionate. But he also liked being a goof. Grantaire slipped out of Enjolras's needy arms to scoop up some paint on a brush. "I've painted you a million times, but I've never PAINTED you." Grantaire dabbed the paint on Enjolras's adorable nose.

"Grantaire!" He gasped. "I'm going to kill you." He took a handful of paint and thrusted it onto Grantaire's face, staining his curly, frizzy hair. Laughing, Grantaire pulled Enjolras in for a kiss. While he was in close to Grantaire, Grantaire snuck his hand up his thin, red v-neck, leaving a trail of awful yellow paint. "'Taire!" He scolded. 

"Now you'll have to take your shirt off." Grantaire loved when Enjolras called him Taire. It was surprisingly sexy coming from his angelic lips. 

What a sight Enjolras was without a shirt concealing his tan, toned body. Grantaire, or anyone for that matter, couldn't help but getting a boner. And when Grantaire got hard, so did Enjolras. Now theire they were, in a still unfunished nursery, horny as hell. The only natural thing for Enjolras to do was lerch forward to attack Grantaire, with hot, steamy, sloppy kisses. He jumped up to wrap his legs around Grantaire's waist. Surprisingly, Grantaire could support his muscular, tall weight. Soon, Grantaire made his way to the ground without his malnourished frame under Enjolras's masculine physique. The godlier of the two straddled his boyfriends lap that ached in arousal. 

"I want you to fuck me like the government fucks the 99%" Yes, Enjolras thought he was being super sexy with that one. Grantaire just hums into Enjolras's sucking lips, holding back a severe laughter fit. Then he realized what he was saying, Enjolras wanted him, Grantaire, an ugly, cynical ex-alcoholic, to take away his precious, well guarded virginity. 

"Wait, me?" He broke away from his aggressive kissing. A very horny boyfriend continued nipping at his bulky collarbone, despite this. 

"Yes, you! I love you!" He reminded inbetween kissed on his sweaty skin. "You're the only one I want to do this."

"But I'm not good enough for you! I'm not perfect." Grantaire looked away. 

"Grantaire," Enjolras directed his face toward him. "I've never met a perfect person in my life." 

"Do you own a mirror?" Grantaire grumbled.

"I'm far from perfect, Grantaire. But you're making me closer to it." That made Grantaire grin, "Now, c'mon, I've got a stimulus package waiting for you in my pants."

\--------------------

 

"What the fucking hell?" Jehan's dad came home unexpectedly and decided, unexpectly, to go to his office. He saw his son, moaning on a desk with the town rebel inside of him. "Get the fuck out of my son!" He bellowed.

"Dad!" Jehan's glasz eyes widened at his father. "Have you met my boyfriend, Courfeyrac?" Jehan nudged him to take his cock and put it in his boxers. 

"Hi!" Courfeyrac attempted to charm his way out of this one. Putting on his boxers, he climbed off the table to introduce himself. "I'm Courfeyrac, I'm your son's boyfriend." He extended his hand for a handshake, but Jehan's dad wrinkled his nose at it. "You probably don't want to touch that. Afterall it was just up-" 

"Courfeyrac!" Jehan squealed to get him to shut up. 

"Sorry, I'm just trying to defuse the tension." He pulled his ity-bity skinny jeans up his legs. 

"Get the hell out of my house, faggot, and never come back." He growled in a severe tone. 

"Alright! Jehan, love, it's time to head home!" Courfeyrac clasped his trembling hands together nervously. "Happy Birthday, Mr. Prouvaire." He took Jehan's hand.

"No, Jehan will be staying here. You go on, I need to talk to my son about his behavior." 

"Wow." Courfeyrac shook his head. "You really think this is a behavioral problem? Your son is gay and believe it or not, he fell in love with me and I fell in love with him. Out of all the millions of people in the universe, we found a person to love forever. Shouldn't that be celebrated? Shouldn't you be so happy that your son is happy? Obviously you are ignorant. That can be fixed, but he can't, because he's not broken." With that, Courfeyrac took Jehan, only clad in his lacey green panties, a bundle of their clothes and he left, not caring about Mr. Prouvaire's request for Jehan to stay. 

\-----

All fucked out, Enjolras past out on the wood planks of the unpainted nursery. Losing your virginity isn't the most comfortable thing, but God was it amazing. If gays go to hell, hell has got to be fucking sexy. He was curled up againapdt Grantaire. Ever since they started sharing a bed, Enjolras couldn't sleep without touching Grantaire's body somehow. His phone vibrating in his pants (Which were balled up in the corner with the rest of their clothes) woke him up.

"Oh fuck." Enjolras groaned as he sat up.

"Yeah you're going to be sore for a while." Grantaire sat up with him, his hair now crusty with the icky pastel paint. 

"Great, I should really think about my schedule before we have sex." He moped, grabbing his buzzing phone. Incoming call from Combeferre. "Hello?" He paused to listen. "Shit! I mean that's wonderful, we just haven't painted yet." He paused and Combeferre's voice got alouder and more animated. "Fine, fine. Drive safe! Bye." He hung up.

"So?"

"Get your not-sore ass up and get painting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Now, I wrote you an entire chapter so the least you do is write a comment (;   
> Sorry about the lack if sexiness. If anyone out there can write smut, you should write the sexy parts I left out. I'll add it in and give you credit. Or just put a link to it on your account in the comments. I don't do smut.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azelma returns, Courfeyrac gets the opportunity of a life time and Gavroche has the best support system ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey team! I have this really intense plot bunny so bear with me as I set it up. Never fear, little Oliver is doing well and will be out of the hospital in no time! I mentioned a little something about a crush Gavroche has on Enjolras and that's just because Gavroche having a cute crush on Enjolras is adorable. Enjoy the update and please comment/kudos!

Later that day, Combeferre and Azelma returned from the hospital without a baby. Little Oliver was going to make it, the doctors were certain of that. He just needed a few weeks of care in the hospital before he could come home and meet all of his honorary aunts and uncles. No one bombarded Azelma or Combeferre with questions, only gentle hugs and words of love mingled with a heart wrenching compassion that must be genuine. Both of them were very impressed with the nursery, admiring the red fire truck with the female firefighter smiling in front of it. A closed-mouth smile pulsing once on her face, Azelma thanked them for their hard work. Combeferre, being as sensitive as he is intellectual, could tell Azlema was about to start crying, so he hurried her away to his room. 

The whole group was now gathered on the kitchen without the teary Azelma and her knight in shining armor. Somehow, they crowded enough chairs around the table for the whole group to have a seat. Well, except for Feuilly, Cosette and Marius who were seated at the bar stools and Bahorel who was behind the counter, making more tea.

"Poor baby." Cosette sighed from behind her teacup with an ornate floral design painted on it. Everyone was feeling terrible for Azelma, except for Eponine of course. They spent the whole day worrying about the young girls already shattered life becoming even more unfixable. She was only a teenager and clearly unequipped for the struggles of motherhood. Thankfully, she had plenty of roomies who were more than happy to help. 

"Just think about when we all start having kids. They're going to have the most kick-ass extended family ever." Bahorel grinned. No one ever thought of him as one to think about the future and them all having kids one day. 

"There's going to be so much germs." Joly puffed into his inhaler anxiously while clinging to Bossuet's arm. 

"And so much love." Cosette countered dreamily. "I want a baby, Marius." His face turning a shade redder than anytime before, Marius stammered uncomfortably. 

"Um-uh-butda....If you really want to." 

"Not right now!" Cosette giggled. "But somewhere down the line." 

"I don't ever want kids." Feuilly interrupted all the fantasies about domestic love and little babies all Les Amis were undoubtedly having. "At least not an biological ones. I'd adopt."

"I think that's what most of us will have to do." Jehan acknowledged the fact that most of them were not able to conceive with there current partners. 

Courfeyrac beamed at Jehan, "We're going to have babies?" The boy with the carmel braid blushed. "Do you want to get started right now?" He left his chair in favor of sitting on Jehan's lap and kissing his collarbones.

"Courfeyrac, as we were just say-" Jehan explaining that same sex couples can't conceive in that fashion was interupting by Courfeyrac, wandering hands exciting him. "Yeah, we can go get started." The two hurried off to get freaky, waving good-bye to their friends. 

"Since when was Jehan so...." Bahorel trailed off. "Open about sex?" 

"Hey, I'm just glad Courf's getting laid. He gets pissy if he doesn't orgasm enough." Grantaire reflected illy on those days when Courfeyrac first became sexually active back in middle school. Most of the time he'd have a constant stream off hook-ups even when single, but when a dry spell hit, things were bleak. He was moody, clingy and annoying as fuck. Eventually, Grantaire came up with a solution, fucking Courfeyrac himself. The two are very intimate friends. 

Marius got all flustered by the word orgasm and Cosette smiled at his awkward virgin blushes. Despite her also being very inexperienced and unprepared for sex, she could tell she was miles more ready for sex. Marius lacked a certain maturity. Their lips met briefly, his blush brightening and a light glow coming over Cosette's attractive paleness. "You're a dork. I love you." She murmured to him. 

"I love you more." Marius whispered.

"Impossible." Dazed, the two gazed at each other with their noses pressed together. Marius was enchanted by her rapturous smile and she was equally breathless due to his inconceivably long, full eyelashes fluttering against her skin. 

Eponine watched in disgust before storming out of the room to the porch for a smoke. "Cuties!" Musichetta gushed from under Bossuet's arm. 

Everyone adored Cosette and Marius. Straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, love is love and it's always beautiful. It was something the group lived by. No one passed judgement on anyone's sexuality or relationships unless it was absolutely necessary. Just as Marius and Cosette respected everyone's relationships and orientation, the whole team easily saw the beauty in Cosette and Marius's love. Heterophobia in any form was not going to end homophobia. 

"So?" Feuilly asked, taking a long drink of his horribly bitter coffee from a mug that had a green dinosaur stretching out his tiny wingspan with 'I love you THIS much' written on it. Today was one of those beautifully rare days when Feuilly had the day off and could chill with his friends. "What's the plan for today?" 

Although Enjolras is the leader, for everyday things, Courfeyrac took the reigns. None of them knew what the plans were without a little enthusiastic nudge from their Centre. 

"It's sorta rainy." Grantaire glanced out of the clear patio door. The greenery dripped with little beads of condensation and the ground looked muddy with the added water softening it. "Movie day?" He suggested. "Seems a tad rude to go have too much fun with Azelma being such a mess." 

"Movies?" Bahorel groaned. "Let's play video games! We always watch movies." Gavroche's face lit up at that. With am adorable grin like Gavroche's it was impossible for Enjolras to protest. The gang circled around the TV, preparing for the epic Mario kart tournament. 

\------

A cold, frail, quivering, body sobbed in Combeferre's muscular arms. The covers were draped over their shoulders and wads of used tissues were on the checkered sheets. Combeferre stroked her hair as he shused her. "Azelma, it's okay." He cooed. "I promise everything will be okay." 

"You don't know that." She sniffled. "You can't know." 

"Yes, I do." He insisted, pressing his lips to her cheekbone that immediately bloomed a lovely pink hue. "I won't let it be any other way." Azelma craved to be the strong, independent woman Disney taught her to be, but sometimes people need help and there's nothing wrong with that. But another thing Disney taught her was that endings have to be happy. She was about to make her own happy ending.

"Do you love me?" She asked shyly. 

"Azelma," He pulled her close to his warmth, trying to cushion the inevitably blow. "You're a great girl-"

"No!" She interrupted, pushing him away. "I don't want to be 'so strong' or 'beautiful' or the girl that 'will make some very lucky boy happy one day.' I want to make you happy."

"And you do." Combeferre scooted towards her. "You give me so much purpose. Now that Enjolras is with Grantaire, I have no one to take care of."

"If you ask me, Enjolras is taking care of Grantaire more than himself these days." She grumbled. As much as everyone hated to admit it, Enjolras had seen pretty days. Grantaire was without a doubt at his best, he stopped cutting, drinking and even smoking to some extent. Happy was a good look on the guy. His naturally wild hair was less greasy and becoming more and more stylish, his skeletal figure had gained enough weight to finally be at the bottom end of the healthy range, even the harsh dark circles under his eyes were fading. Just his bright smile made him more attractive. On the other hand, Enjolras was cracking under the pressure. Raising someone up was hard work. The effort was stressing Enjolras, his grades, social activism and even his godly looks, were suffering. The better Grantaire got, the further Enjolras fell. No one liked watching their relationship cause Enjolras issues. 

"Enjolras is doing his best."Combeferre reminded her. 

"Tell me you're over him." Azelma whimpered, sensing the sweet undertone of love in his always patient voice. 

"I-I can't lie to y-"

Azelma's roaring tears burst through Combeferre's sentence. "He's with Grantaire! He's taken, but here I am, alone, scared, wanting all of you." It seemed like an amazing offer, yet it wasn't what he wanted. Azelma was too young, too damaged, too fragile. He was grown and mature. He loved protecting and caring for people but Azelma was too needy to be anything more than a friend. "Now, if you tell me you have any feelings for Eponine, I'm going to scream."

"She's horrible." Combeferre admitted. "But I can't let her go. We're only together so I won't pursue a relationship with you." He explained, piecing her plot together. 

All the sudden, as if summoned by the mentioning of her name, Eponine barged in the room. "What the fuck is going on in here?"

"Eponine, please." Combeferre begged in a raspy tone.

"No!" She clawed at Combeferre's buff arm and somehow pulled him away from Azelma. "You're my boyfriend. Stop trying to cheat on my with her!" 

"I swear, 'Ponine, it's not like that. I'm just trying to help." He pleaded, but she shunned his reassuring words. 

"Your dick isn't going to help." Eponine snarled. "Azelma," She turned vicously to the sickly looking child. "Get the fuck out of my room. Combeferre is not your only option for comfort." Despite cussing and the harshness of her commands, Eponine was really not being too rude. Her lack of compassion was certainly reasonable so Azelma nodded and staggered out of the room seeking comfort else where. 

Maybe she would stumble across someone as brilliant as Combeferre who wasn't still hung up over her sister.

\---

Lazily, Courfeyrac rolled over to view a still very naked Jehan, his glasz eyes glimmering from the burning sexual desire that had been satisfied. Jehan was radiant, pale skin speckled with light freckles and light caramel hair unbraided and flowing down his shoulders. "You're really good at that." Jehan complimented. 

"Thanks, I've had a lot of practice." An innocent comment like that made Jehan uncomfortable. He didn't like the thought of Courfeyrac's past sexual partners. He cringed at the idea of Courfeyrac bringing a woman to bed. Bisexuality, in Jehan's mind, equaled commitment issues and disloyalty. "How are you?"

Small talk? This is pillow talk. "Fine?" Jehan said with an obligatory question mark phrasing. 

"I'm talking about the dysphoria." Courfeyrac clarified. Now it made sense. They actually hadn't really discussed that in much detail for awhile. Courfeyrac hated saddness, a thing Jehan seemed to constantly inhale, so they avoided it to keep Courfeyrac bubbly. Dragging down Courfeyrac from his ball of sunshine state was the very last thing Jehan wanted to do. But now his boyfriend was checking in on him. They may not stumble into this topic again for months. He shouldn't hold it in for much longer anyway. He was going to tell the truth instead. 

"It's sorta on-and-off." He offered. "Somedays I'm happy with what I have and somedays I can't even look at myself. It never fully leaves me. I'm not manly enough to be a man or girly enough to be a girl. Either dorection I swing, I'm just not enough." Not enough. The words peirced directly through Courfeyrac, jabbing at his most lovely thoughts and feelings. To him, Jehan was the moon and the stars and the sun all rolled up and put into one. Jehan was beautiful inside and out. He always thought that way. From the poetry Jehan crafted to the itches of all his tacky sweaters, Jehan was Courfeyrac's universe. How could he feel like he's not enough when he is far more than Courfeyrac could ever feel he deserves?

In Jehan's mind, it didn't matter how much he was loved, he couldn't find a way to fully love himself. He loved Courfeyrac and the rest of his friends with all he was and even with what he didn't have to give. He drained his wealth of love on everyone else until there was nothing for himself. "Sometimes," Jehan whispered. "I pray I'll wake up far away, as a different person. Then I remember, if I wasn't me, I wouldn't have you and you are worth the agony. Your smile, your fierce words of love and your jubilant spirit was the only thing that kept me from commiting suicide that night. Even though I'm not enough, you are. You're the best thing that's ever been mine." As much as Courfeyrac wanted to hum TSwifts popular tune, Mine, he refrained from it so he wouldn't ruin the spectacular moment. 

"Jehan, you're enough. You are worth more to me and the rest of this earth than you will ever believe." It was true. The pair stared at the ceiling for awhile to let that conversation sink in. Then Courfeyrac remembered he had something to say.

"Hey, I have something to tell you." Butterflies flittered through Jehan's flat stomach, was he cheating? "Last night, I got a job offer." The only jobs Courfeyrac would ever seriously consider were jobs on stage. It was no secret Courfeyrac spent a great deal of his childhood bouncing between voice lessons, varies dance classes, acting courses and cheer.

"What's the job?" Jehan scooted closer to Courfeyrac's radiating warmth. 

"My friend from Jazz class is choregraphying the revival of Newsies. One of the chorus dancers got in a car accident and they need a quick replacement. They only have a month left until they close but I pick up choreography fast so my Jazz friend asked me." Courfeyrac explained.

"Is this on Broadway? In New York?" A smile, trailed by a blush bloomed on Courfeyrac's face. 

"Yes!" He squeal. "Can you believe it? Me, finally living my dream! A newsie! I'll only be gone a month and you can visit me and see the show." 

"This is your dream." Jehan grinned. As much as he hated to let Courfeyrac leave, he had to. "You don't need my permisson!"

"I know." He kissed Jehan's chapped lips. "I wanted to. I love you, I didn't want to leave without making sure you'd be okay." Something told Jehan that this seperation would not be good for their fragile, growing relationship. So far it was thriving, they were deeply in love, but what happens when Courfeyrac is in the mood for a biologically female? What happens when Courfeyrac goes to explore the big city and realizes he can have something so much better than Jehan. He didn't want to worry or bring it up, so he just held on to Courfeyrac like it was the last time and tried not to cry. 

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow" To which Jehan responded with tears sting his eyes. 

 

\---

Long after their game day drew to a close, but well before night crept over the house, the whole of the group gathered in the living room. Enjolras opened up a brief meeting with mundane news about the LGBTQ community and closed with something he neveer closed with: "Do we have any personal issues that need adressing?" Everyone was a bit confused and off-put by this, but Marius cautiously rose his hand. Enjolras nodded at him. 

"I'm lactose-intolerant." He admitted uncerainly. When he 'personal issue' recieved rolling eyes and a disapproving look from the leader in red, Marius embarassedly lowered his hand.

"I have something." Cosette piped up after consoling Marius. 

"Go ahead." Enjolras prodded. Clearing her throat, Cosette stood.

"As we all can tell, Gavroche is growing at an alarming rate." Cosette began, speaking eloquently and civily as always. "I think ot is important that the men of our little makeshift family teach him about sexualities and gender identites so in this stage of questioning and growth, he can feel supported." That wasn't a bad idea, actually. Everyone one of those guys would have loved a whole team of role-models to guide him through the question period of their lives. Cosette certainly was a beautiful blend of intelligent and caring, Marius was very lucky to have a girl like her. 

"Thank you, Cosette." Unfortunately, the idea of discussing ex in any form with an immature little gamin like Gavroche made Enjolras flustered. "You can sit down now."

"Woah!" Musichetta sassed with furrowed eyebrows. "That's a fucking great idea and you tell her to sit down?" Her partner in crime, Eponine sprang to her feet to join in. 

"It's because she's a woman, isn't it?" Eponine narrowed her eyes. She had never been a fan off Enjolras. He was too beautiful and pretensious and self-rightous and generous at the same time and he was just so GAH

"No!" Enjolras defended himself in an out of character frantic fashion. "It's not like that!"

"Oh than what is it like?" Musichetta barked with her fists resting against her curvy hips. "Please, educate us useless, ignorant little girls." Clearly, Enjolras was not trying to be sexest. These girls were going a bit to the extreme, Cosette certainly thought they were. She looked at them in horror as they defended her in a way she didn't want to be defended in. 

"Musichetta," Joly squeaked from behind her. "Enjolras really didn't mean to offend you, he actually didn't say anything rude or offensive." He explained, trying not to agrivate her further. 

"Yeah, so leave my boyfriend fucking alone!" Grantaire growled. That made her snap. She lunged to attack Grantaire, reaching straight for his exposed throat. When he scrunched up, putting his chin to his chest, she rerouted and tugged on his inky spirals. Soon enough, Eponine joined in on the action by scratching at his malnourished arms.

"Please!" Enjolras bellowed. "You three are behaving like children. Now, if you wpuld've let me finish, Musichetta you would have seen that I'm going to purpose a vote." Ashamed, Misichetta and Eponine folded their arms, hung there heada, resigned to their seats and finally grumbled an apology. In the most half-assed, grantaire-ish way, the cynic grunted an echo of their already insincere apology. "All in favor of givimg Gavroche a chat about sexuality and gender, please raise your hand." Everyone's hand went up, Enjolras simply noddedded. "Okay, looks like we'll attend to that after dinner." 

"Damn straight." Eponine mumbled, earning an irritated look from Enjolras that was well deserved. 

\----

Gavroche slide skillfully down the slick banister, his still malnourished body showing off the jutting out of ribs and bulky collar bones. The raggedy jeans that hung on his fraile frame had once belonged to Jehan. To add a more rugged style to the feminity to Jehan's otherwise girly denim slacks, Gavroche had done a pretty great job of wearing out the knees and smudging them with dirt. It didn't really matter what Gavroche wore as he still was illegally not attendeing school in any form and no one at the house would care if he ran about in his boxers and clingy wife-beaters. Combeferre was constantly insisting that Gavroche shoild get a proper education since he really was a clever kid and was bursting   
with potential. Courfeyrac, Gavroche's best friend after Grantaire, always countered that public schooling would teach him just to try and squeeze into some predetermined box called 'The Norm'. 

He was whistling a cheerful little tune when he arrived in the living room. Every seat was occupied, the floor was dotted with the guys who couldn't fit on the couch. Enjolras was in the middle of the couch with Courfeyrac on his left and Combeferre on his right. Grantaire was quite literally at his Apollo's feet, relaxing against his shins. The arm chair was claimed by Bahorel, with Feuilly posed on the arm, ready to tip over on his lap if need be. Jehan was snuggled up in a beanbag chair. Criss-cross-applesauce on the ground, Joly and Bossuet anxioisly awaited the awkwardness to begin. Marius was in the same boat, scared out of his innocent mind. 

No one was smiling. The sight was unnerveing to Gavroche. "Who died?" Was his first reaction. 

"No one, Gav." Courfeyrac replied calmly.

"Well, what's up with all this weird, sad gathering shit?" Gavroche rolled over the office chair from the desk in the living room. 

"Language." Combeferre warned with no emotion. 

"Fine. Now, will some one please explain to me what the H-E-Double-hockey-sticks is going on?" Gavroche sassily altered his language as to not cuss.

"We need to talk." Grantaire sat up a little straighter.

"About?" Gavroche prompted.

"Sexuality. We just wanted to hear a little about what you've been thinking about your sexuality, if you have any questions or problems you need help with." Enjolras tried his best not to get noticably crimson. 

"Why did we need everyone here?" 

"We wanted you to feel comfortable." Jehan smiled. "We didn't know your orientation."

"Oh." Gavroche went pale. He had no clue were to begin. Having this borderline taboo conversation thrusted upon him so suddenly left his usually cranking gears in need of some lubrication. "Well, I haven't actually given it much thought." Lies. All lies. Gavroche mocked Enjolras to no end, but he admired him deeply even to the point of a little crush. But those were just minor feelings, just a bundle of bubbly feelings that simmered in the pit of his stomach. His real crush was on Musichetta. What can he say? He's a boobs guy!

"Thank God!" Enjolras let out a dramatic sigh of utter relief. 

"Enjolras!" Jehan half scolded. "Dear, we must'nt be too quick to wrap this conversation up." He was right, this was a very important talk. 

"I think what we're all trying, and failing at saying is that no matter what your sexuality or gender identity, we're going to support you." Feuilly stepped in. 

"And you always have something to talk to." Bossuet added. 

"Right," Joly beamed at his bald beau before kissing his cheek. "We have most of the sexual orientations covered in our little family here." 

"If you have any questions about bisexuality, ask me or 'Taire." Courfeyrac really wanted Gavroche to feel comfortable coming to him about absolutely anything. If he hadn't had Grantaire to confide in when they were questioning, Courfeyrac wouldn't be the happy, accepting, all around sunshiny person he grew up to be. Bitterness would have consumed his glimmer. 

"Enjolras has all your gay questions covered." Grantaire looked up at Enjolras seripis expression with a lovely crooked smile. 

"I do?" He asked his adorable, sober boyfriend. Keeping him on track, Combeferre nudged his firm bicep with his elbow. "I mean, I do."

"Bossuet's heteroflexible and I'm homoflexible." Joly told Gavroche. Generally, Bossuet's attractioms were strictly heterosexual, but every now and then, he'd fimd himself attracted to a male. He's only fell in love with two people, a boy, Joly and a gorgeous girl named Musichetta. But he's only had a few crushes on boys along with many crushes on a variety of beautiful women. Joly was the exact opposite. But he was even more focused on one gender, he had only fallen for one girl. Without Musichetta, he'd consider himself gay.

"I'm sort of new at this, but I'm pansexual and happy to offer guidenece." A few of the boys were a little shocked by this announcement. Courfeyrac took a second to check out Combeferre. Pansexual? Yeah, he'd tap that. 

"I'm Demisexual." Jehan rose his freckled hand. In other words, he's 100% into pretty boys who let him make them flower crowns and fuck him into the mattress after a crazy amount of emotional bonding. Demisexual doesn't mean you can't like it rough!

"Last but not least, the straight guys!" Bahorel burped after gulping from a can of Diet Coke. "We have your back." There was something insincere about what Bahorel cheered. He thought he was straight, he wanted to be straight. But Feuilly! And freckles! And Feuilly! 

"Thanks guys." Gavroche rolled his eyes. "Can I go watch porn now?"

Two contrasting answers harmonized together, but Gavroche only heard Bahorel, Courfeyrac and Grantaire shouting, "Hell yeah!" He dashed off and no one had the drive to try and snag him.

 

\-----

Who could have thought that one day, the world's douchiest scent of play boy perfume would be Jehan's favorite smell? As he desperately clung to Courfeyrac, Jehan inhaled as much of that teenage boy junk as he could. It wasn't that Jehan was physic, he just got senses and weird vibes and computed them better than your average person. He was getting the sense that this was not a good thing for their newly consumated relationship. "Are you sure you have to go?" He whined.

"Sorry, I don't think I can do the show from here." He let Jehan nuzzle his head into the crook of his neck. Neither were ashamed or worried about homophobes. Right then, it was jut them floating in their own bubble. "I love you so much."

"And I you." He answered in his poetic cadance. "I packed you those madeleins you like so much and a few little poems. Don't read them all at once. Only when you miss me." 

"I might as well start reading them now. Did you write enough for me to have a constant stream until I see you again?" At that, Jehan let out an airy huff from his nose as a light hearted laugh. 

"Sorry, love. My hands don't move that fast." One suggestive look from Courfeyrac made Jehan realize it didn't sound like he was talking about writing peoms by hand. "I'm going to miss how cute and dirty you are."

"I'm going to miss how innocent you pretend to be." He winked. He glanced at his phone for the time. "Damn!" He cursed. "I have to go." That triggered tears to spout out of Jehan's glasz eyes.

"Please don't forget about me when you become a huge star." He pleaded.

"Oh, Jehan!" He smothered him with another possessive embrace. "If I ever make it big, you'll still be the brightest star to me." One last kiss, sweet, but intense and he was trotting away, his satchel bobbimg at his waist.

"Goodbye!" He called loudly to Courfeyrac. "Goodbye." He whispered mournfully to the most beautiful thing he had ever been apart of. Something was not right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did ya think? Tell me in the comments! I want to make sure I'm not royally fucking up.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac takes on Newly York, Bahorel gets a wake up call and Eponine tries to turn it all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Please leave comments!

New York City. The city of dreams, where anything and everything can happen. A huge maze of breath taking buildings that shoot out from the concrete to touch the stars which shine almost as brightly as the wide-eyed Courfeyrac who climbed out of a racing taxi. Beautiful people in tourist tees bustled past chattering in awe about the sheer size of the historic city and its wonders. He gazed at the sky and the dizzying heights of the sky-scrapers, topped with a thin ribbon of smog. This was the place for Courfeyrac. The pacing, the lights, the blaring noises and all the attitude. 

He rummaged through his satchel for a crumpled piece of paper that had an address scribbled. A few numbers and letters were all he knew about his home for the next month. That and he would be rooming with a girl named Holland who was promised to be smoking hot. Holland was a dance major at NYU and the best friend of his old buddy from Jazz. Holland offered to house him when his Jazz friend, Lucas hired him and he had no where to stay. She was far too busy with school to be a cast member, but she did her best to help Lucas choreograph and such.

Merrily, Courfeyrac pranced along the sidewalk. He smiled at a homeless man ranting about daylight savings time and tossed a quarter his direction. "Damn Commi!" The old man wagged his fist in the air. Litter blew in the light wind as he trotted towards a door. A door that would be the place he slept during the birth of his Broadway career. Sun making his curls shimmer, Courfeyrac enthusiastically rattled his knuckles against the green door on the cold metal steps. The echo of the knock triggered the pitter-patter of a graceful foot steps approaching swiftly. Jiggling of the knob told Courfeyrac she was having difficulty opening the door. Eventually, the door swung open wildly, nearly smacking Courfeyrac.

"Omg!" She squealed. "You must be my new live-in-gay-bestie! I'm Holland, I'll be your very best friend for the next month." She extended her baby-hand to clasp in a handshake with Courfeyrac's average sized hand. 

"Hi, I'm Courfeyrac. Singer, dancer, actor and all around cutie!" He dragged his suitcase into the crammed foyer when Holland beckoned him forward. The house was tiny, the staircase took up 2/3 of the entrance. Up the metal stairs was a single bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. Courfeyrac didn't grow up in a palace, but this place was basically a shoe box compared to the worn rancher he grew up in. 

Even though the apartment was itt-bitty, Holland clearly tried her best to keep it trendy and well decorated. Vases were hiding in every cranny to add bold splashes of vibrant colors to the blank white walls and bland, cheap, fake-wood flooring. Eye-catching paintings hung tastefully around the blank canvas of walls and dramatic black drapes pooled on the floors, suspended from rods above the windows. What minimal furniture was strategically interspersed in the apartment was edgy, bright and bulky in the most stylish way. Courfeyrac loved it. 

"Holland, your place is great!" He abandoned his roll-around suitcase by the door to rush up the stairs. He explored the many modern trinkets and took a look at the many small appliances used to make healthy smoothies, essential to the dancers nutritious diet. 

"Our place." She corrected him, walking up the steps at a slow, even pace. God, was she beautiful. Her skin was the darker than any he had ever seen and her smile the purest white. There was some sort of bewitching glimmer in her shockingly blue eyes. And that body! Drool! The way she moved sent shivers coursing through his already jittery self. 

"So, where am I sleeping?" Courfeyrac scanned the obscenely open floor plan, able to scope out the whole place from where he was standing. 

"Are you okay with the futon? It's actually super comfortable." She insisted pulling the turquoise futon into a bed position.

"Totally!" He settled onto the colorful, makeshift bed. Breaking a potentially awkward lull in the conversation, Holland's phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket to read to notification. 

"Dang!" she whined. "I just got a text from my agent, my audition got rescheduled. I have to go, I'll be home in a bit. Help yourself to anything in the fridge." Holland gave him an aggressive hug before scurrying around the apartment for a few minutes, gathering her audition necessities and effectively knocking over an open box of tampons all over the bathroom floor. Frantically, she stashed them back in their box. Holland chirped a final goodbye and pranced down the stairs and out the door. The whole time, Courfeyrac's curious eyes were trained on her near perfect, round ass. Yep, this was going to be a lovely living arrangement. 

 

\----------------

The whole sexuality thing had really thrown Gavroche for a loop. After watching countless hours of porn combined with soul-searching, he had come up with no solid conclusion. Girls were really all he had ever seriously thought of getting dirty with, but part of him still had a crush on a certain leader in red. That sounds hetero flexible. Bossuet was the hetero flexible of the group, he could talk to him about it. Not that Bossuet was a bad guy, he was actually pretty chill and a trustworthy person, it's just that he and Gavroche weren't super close. 

The next beat thing was a jovial brawler who identified as straight. The one and only Bahorel. 

He carefully deleted his history and was on his way. When he reached the kitchen, Cosette was buzzing around making tea for a distraught Jehan. "He'll be home before you know it, sweet- Gavroche!" She interrupted herself after seeing his slim shadow trying to sneak past undetected. "Where are you off to?" 

"Me?" He asked. A sweet nod later, Gavroche gathered an answer. "I'm looking for Bahorel." 

"Last I saw him, he was headed to the garage to punch that piece of shit punching bag." Feuilly directed from his position, leaning against the counter, sipping on tea casually.

"Thanks." He tried his best to marinate his boyish voice in sarcasm and walked away all cool like. 

Feuilly was right, out in the garage, Bahorel was maliciously beating on a worn, leather punching bad that hung from the ceiling. He listened the clanking of the chain and Bahorel's grunting for a minute before hollering at him. "Yo, meathead!" Gavroche caught his attention. 

"Shouldn't you be at school?" Bahorel asked.

"How many times do I have tp fucking say it? School is for chumps! I'm no chump!" The garage was set up so out the doo there was a 4x4 square deck with a staircase extending of the left side. It was a four stall garage housing Enjolras's red Prius (or what Grantaire called it: The Gaymobile.) and Combeferre's car, Jehan's bike and Courfeyrac's vespa, along with a whole bunch of tools and junk and a little corner for Bahorel's punching bag.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine..." Bahorel grumbled, removing his bulky black boxing gloves. "What do you want?" He asked as he wiped away trickling beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. 

"Advice, you got it or not?" Gavroche sprung to the floor from the stairs without any hesitation. Shifting to a more serious mindset, Bahorel approached Gavroche and sat him down on the steps. He joined him.

"Look," He placed a hand on Gavroche's bony shoulder, clad in a baggy grey tee that read: Keep your rosaries off my ovaries. It was a cause shirt, the only one Enjolras could find in Gavroche's size. But hey, Enjolras gave it to him so he was going to wear the fuck out of it. "I'm going to give you some advice I wish I heard when I was your age, " He got even more stoic and his voice became a quivering a whisper. "Live Every week like it's Shark Week." 

"Thanks.." He shoved his hand away from him and fixed his now wrinkle shirt. "But I actually had a topic in mind."

"What?"

"Sexuality." Oh gosh, Bahorel was certain that Gavroche would go to Grantaire with questions, or maybe Enjolras just to see him turn as crimson as that red jacket he adores so much. 

"Oh." Was all he could muster. "What do you want to know?"

Squinting his eyes like Enjolras does when he is embarrassed and needs to get something off his chest, Gavroche asked, "Is it possible to be straight and still really like a dude?" He cautiously opened on eye to scope out Bahorel's reaction. 

Wow. Did Gavroche know he'd been wrestling with that question for-fucking-ever? Did everyone know that he wanted to kiss everyone of those god damn freckles coating Feuilly's beautiful pale skin? How long would it be until he exploded with suppressed feelings of   
love? Was it possible that he could be straight and love Feuilly? What was this feeling.

"What do you think?" Bahorel wasn't asking this so Gavroche could work it out for himself, bit so he might answer it for him. 

"I think that people are people. Whether they fit the definition of what our orientation is supposed to be attracted to shouldn't limited how you feel about someone." He stumbled along, putting his innermost thoughts into words. "I mean, if the boy I liked was a girl, than I'd definitely like him. So why does gender have to get in the way?" Shit. That was pretty insightful for a little kid like Gavroche. "If you like someone, that doesn't have to change how you label yourself, right?"

That actually made a lot of sense. It's like bisexuals. Just because a male bisexual dates a woman, doesn't mean he suddenly became straight. So just because a straight male likes, well loves, another man, that doesn't make him not straight. It just means he's in love with a guy, in spite of his penis. Just because he's always thought he was straight, doesn't mean his sexuality can change or be flexible to include one person. Why couldn't he love Feuilly? Didn't Honey Boo Boo say that everybody's a little gay? He only likes girls sexually, but Feuilly is the only person he has really wanted for romance. Who says you can't be Heterosexual/Homoromantic? Who says he won't want to bone Feuilly? That was it. No more holding back. He wasn't going to live a life of regret. If he never tries for Feuilly, he'll never truly know what he wants. All Bahorel knew was he wanted Feuilly, how much of him? He wasn't sure. 

"Right." He ventured cautiously. "I think I need to talk to someone, like right now." He hurried up the stairs and inside. Like a flash of lightening, he zoomed to the place he last saw Feuilly: the kitchen. When he came to the kitchen, panting from the short sprint, he found Cosette comforting Jehan over tea. "Where's Feuilly?" He demanded, huffing and puffing.

"He just went to grab a shower." Jehan replied.

"Okay, that phrase 'grab a shower' is super hipster and makes no sense, but thanks." He sped talked before scampering up the stairs to Feuilly's shower of choice. 

"I think it makes sense, Jehan." Cosette assured the pouting boy with the caramel hair. 

"Thank you."

Now, Bahorel was pounding on the door, trying to overpower Feuilly's singing. "Feuilly!" He called urgently. In actuality, this conversation could honestly be held off until after Feuilly's quick shower. 

"What?" He hollered above the sound of the roaring shower. 

"We need to talk! Get your freckled ass out here!" He commanded. 

"Can't this wait?" Seriously, Feuilly took the world's shortest showers, only challenged by Enjolras's speed cleansing. 

"No!" Bahorel meant it. Despite being a brave brawler, Bahorel could only do crazy things like punching someone, taking body shots off of homeless strangers and confessing love on aderenline. If he had anytime to think about it, he'd find a reason not to do it. After all, he is logical. "We need to talk now." 

"Two seconds!" Feuilly promised as Bahorel felt his confidence faulter and the doubts sink in. Consequences quickly flooded his mind. What if he freaks outs? What if this destroys their friendship? He couldn't waste two seconds, by that time he'd retreat due to him thinking straight. He jingled the knob, finding the door unlocked. It was fate! The stars were aligning, the universe wanted this too! 

"Feuilly!" He was greeted by a thin fog of steam created by the heat of Feuilly's mid-day shower. 

"Bahorel!" Feuilly shrieked, pulling away the curtain just enough to peek his head out to see his frantic best friend. "I'm naked!"

"I don't give a fuck! I've seen you naked literally a thousand times." Not a lie. Ever since rooming together freshman year, the boundaries of clothing were loosely ignored. The pounding of the hot water shut off at Feuilly's rotation of the knob. 

"What?" The walked of the shower, fully exposed, arms out, asking why. 

Confidence dwindling, Bahorel tossed Feuilly a towel. "Yeah, cover up. No one wants to see your shower-boner." Feuilly's ginger hair was still foaming with suds from his homemade shampoo. 

"Fine." He wrapped it around his waist. "What's so important?" He crossed his arms over his pale chest. It appeared that Feuilly was becoming snappy from too many long shifts at work. 

No turning back. Be brave. This is the one time this actually counts, don't be afraid. Don't chicken out now when your stupid risk-taking really matters. Stop second guessing yourself. This is what you want. "I love you!" He blurted out, throwing caution to the wind. 

Immediately, his jaw unhinged in utter shock at this revelation. "You?" He whispered back. "Me?" Wincing, Bahorel nodded. The silence wavered between them for a hyper extended, heart wrenching moment in time. The stars didn't seem so aligned anymore. From head to toe, Bahorel filled with regret. Why did he have to be so stupid? "Thank God!" Out of nowhere, Feuilly moaned and pulled Bahorel against his nearly nude body to kiss him. Bahorel's lips puckered in surprise at Feuilly's eagerness to kiss him at first, but soon enough, he complied by putting decent effort into the kiss. Instead of out at the sides of his body like he'd just been electrocuted, his arms slung around Feuilly. 

"I'm guessing you like me too?" He panted between steamy kisses. 

"You're not as dumb as you look." With a grin, Feuilly retracted from the smooch.

Bahorel chuckled, "Shut up, you idiot!" And that's how the kissing began again.

\----------

As night fell, Combeferre managed to calm Azelma into an uneasy slumber. He could tell she would be tossing and turning through the night, so he tucked her in securely, planted a delicate kiss on her sweaty forehead, and then slipped out stealthily. All the house seemed to be winding down, Joly and Bossuet were watching some nerdy cartoons from the 90s while cuddling and having great difficulty keeping their droopy eyelids open. Feuilly and Bahorel had long since retired to the comfort of their two twin beds pushed together. Somewhere upstairs, Combeferre could here Gavroche making a ruckus and Enjolras scolding him ("Gavroche, please, I'm trying to work unreasonable hours here!" "Don't get your tricolored panties in a knot, French Vanilla. I'm just being a kid!") Cosette and Marius went out for a study date, leaving Jehan to have a skype-date with Courfeyrac. 

Combeferre settled into an armchair in corner with an aged book that was missing it's tattered dust jacket. It had been so long since Combeferre had enough time to himself to dive into a good book, he was very much looking forward to escaping this stressful life in favor of visiting a fictional character's reality. The most relaxing thing he had done on his own for what seems like forever was studying. Not very leisurely compared to free reading. The friction between his calloused fingertips and the yellowed pages was a familiar feeling that's novelty would never end, especially after such a long break. 

Just as the text started to suck him into the story and create images rather than a jumble of meaningless words, he noticed a shadow in the lamp light. His eyes, behind thick framed glasses slowly scaled up the frail body before him. 

Wow. Just his luck, it was Eponine with her tan arms folded over her chest, which only appeared full due to a heavily padded push-up bra. Preparing for verbal abuse, he stuffed his bookmark in between the pages and straightened up. "Yes?" 

"We need to talk." Eponine hid her emotions pretty well. After all, she did have years of practice of remaining expressionless when interrogated by police. 

"Okay. Please, go on." It stung to put his book on the end table, not knowing when the next time he would flipped through it's pages again would be. 

"I've been a bitch." Can you say: 'Fucking-Finally'? She was so right, through this whole situation, she had been a total bitch. "I feel really bad about it now. You never meant to hurt anyone, but I did. Honestly, 'Ferre," Eponine took a shuttered breath. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I miss us.... how we used to be.." She shrugged. It felt like a lifetime ago. When Combeferre thought about when they used to be happy, it was a dizzying dream, absolute airy idealism and euphoria that didn't seem achievable anymore. If Eponine wanted to relive those fairytale-like days, who was Combeferre to stop him? Maybe it was a bad idea because of how toxic their relationship became. Still, part of him wanted to go back to what he had with Eponine.

"Okay." His lips became a thin line above his scruffy chin. Because Combeferre was under so much pressure with Azelma as of late, he had neglected shaving.

"Okay what?" She ventured curiously. 

"Okay: Let's try this again. This time let's do it right, as in not sleeping with other people while we're dating." He bargained. A smile flourished on her somewhat attractive face, and Combeferre grew one to match.

"Good. I've missed you." Instead of doing what a decent person would do (leave him in peace to read), Eponine collapsed on his lap for a late night cuddle session to solidify the relationship. As she tied herself around him, another thing was tying inside of him, a tight knot in his queasy stomach. He did not have a good feeling about this already.

\---

Jehan Prouvaire. A hopeless romantic cursed with a long distance relationship. Luckily, since he lives in the digital age, he has resources to connect with his bubbly, Broadway star boyfriend. Even though it was pretty late for Jehan and extremely late for Courfeyrac, Jehan was flopped down in his stomach, gazing at the bright screen of his laptop, waiting for Courfeyrac to answer the Skype call. He promised Jehan that he would Skype him every night when he got home. 

As the icon spiraled on the screen, Jehan struggled to stay awake. Abruptly, Jehan was loudly greeted by a somehow still energetic Courfeyrac. The energy of that boy bewildered Jehan. How could someone be bouncy and extroverted at all times? Courfeyrac was truly a person Jehan could marvel at for hours, bewildered by the complexities of his silly, but brilliant mind. "Hello!" A little digital Courfeyrac cheered from his screen. "Damn, you look fine!" He checked out Jehan like the teenie-bopper boy he still was. 

"Courfeyrac!" Jehan blushed. Despite his crassness, Jehan was glad to see Courfeyrac and receive any sort of compliment from him. 

"C'mon, babe, you know you love me." He puckered his lips to give him an air smooch.

"True enough, my beautiful boy." He admired Courfeyrac's every pixalized detail from his full, rosy cheeks to his groomed curls. "Now, tell me all about New York. How was rehearsal?"

Courfeyrac beamed at the gorgeous boy with the caramel braid. Clearly, he was having a splendid time surrounded by huge skyscrapers and the most talented performers in the world. Jehan wanted to be happy for him, but he'd rather him be home with him. "It's surreal. One rehearsal and I'm already on stage tomorrow night."

"Really?" He rested his chin on his fist. 

"Yeah, of course I'll have another uber long rehearsal before the curtain goes up tomorrow, but it's still happening so fast. It's a bit overwhelming." He admitted.

"I bet." Jehan just soaked in the pure sunshine that was Courfeyrac. How the hell did he get so lucky? 

"Courfeyrac?" A voice called from Courfeyrac's side of the webcame. Jehan thought it must be Courfeyrac's room mate. When Courfeyrac left, Jehan prayed that his roommate would be an Aro/Ace man with no physical appeal whatso ever. "Is that you?" In the corner of the screen, a dark skinned, elegantly beautiful woman swayed into view, half-naked. 

"Jehan, this is my room mate , Holland. Holland, this is my lovely Jehan." He introduced the two. 

"Hi Jehan!" She smiled with pristine white teeth. "Courfeyrac," She turned to who she was addressing. "I thought you were gay." She said, implying she thought Jehan was his girlfriend. 

"I am more than my appearance suggests." He murmurmed. 

"Actually, Jehan is my boyfriend. But I'm not gay, I'm bisexual." Holland's demeanor shifted into so ething more sensually. She was just in a bra and spandex, so you bet she was going to use it to her sick advantage. 

"Oh." She purred. "The more you know I suppose." She stroked his arm before swaggering off. "Bye, boys."

After she was well out of earshot, Jehan got serious. "She's a girl?" 

"Biologically, I suppose." Courfeyrac shrugged. 

"You realize that you have a boyfriend: me!" He whispered harshly. 

"Um.. yeah?" He was more than a little confused by Jehan's comments. 

"Look, you can't just live with random girls!" Jehan scolded on a hushed voice so that Holland wpuldn't overhear them arguing.

"Why not?" Then Courfeyrac remembered why Jehan may have some reservations about this. "This is becauae I'm bi, isn't it?" Instantly, his face brightened to a bright red in the heat of anger. That's what Jehan's worry was but it sounded bad when Courfeyrac said it, almost like Jehan had accused him. He opened his mouth to answer but Courfeyrac cut him off. "Just because I'm bi doesn't mean I'm a cheater Jehan! Jesus! I love you! Does that mean nothing?" 

"I know, darling. I shouldn't even think such a thing, I trust you." Guilt set in.

"It's okay." Courfeyrac gave a weak half smile that was matched by Jehan. "So when are you coming to see the show?" 

At dinner, he suggested to the group that they all go out to New York to see Courfeyrac's show. As much as everyone wanted to go support him, most of the group was busy with school, work or they just didn't have sufficent funds. Those who could come had decided to fly out there and see Courfeyrac perform next week. "I'll see you in ten days." He announced.

"Whose all coming?" Courfeyrac scooted closer to the screen to show visible excitment. 

"Enjolras, Grantaire, Eponine, Gavroche, Bahorel, Marius, Cosette, and me!"

"How the hell did Eponine get money to come and days off of work?"

Jehan shrugged his freckled shoulders. "She said something about knowing a guy." 

For a few peaceful moments of campionable silence, Jehan just looked at him, endlessly enthralled with Courfeyrac. He wasn't angelically beautiful like Enjolras, or blessed with sexy serenity like Combeferre. Courfeyrac had the magnetic personality that matched his unbelievably adorable face. He was basically a human bunny rabbit. If only they could break through the barrier of the screen to kiss him. "Sweetie?" Courfeyrac rubbed his eyes. 

"Huh?"

"You're all I want. I love you, every bit of you. Never forget that. I'd do anything for you to look at me like that for the rest of forever, but for now, I need to sleep." 

"Then I will look onto you lile this in my dreams." Jehan swore in his poetic style. "Goodnight, my love."

Before Courfeyrac signed off, he said, "Goodnight, my star." 

My star. Jehan liked the sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next stop: New York! Comment your thoughts! Thanks lovelies!


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New York!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg! I am so sorry! I have had no desire to write because I was busy performing and being sad. I could not bring myself to write most of the time. And when I did write, I could only do like one sentence a session, hence the short segments. Also I was not too inspired to continue this and I was very much excited about my big bang project.... But all your lovely kudos and comments make me so very happy! Thanks babes.

Do you ever have those days where you just don't want to get put of bed? Not because you didn't get your eight hours, or because you're so very hungover, but because you simply cannot face the world one more time. Everything about you is tired. Your body aches and shivers, your soul burns, but the worst of it is the emotional toil. The exhaustion you bear with a twitching smile. Every fiber of your being wants to give up and its not just your mind that wants to given. Your heart wants to stop its rhythmic pulsing, your lungs want to put an end to your worthless breathing, your blood longs to leak out, and your eyes want to shut so they never have to see the cruelties of this world again. The saddest part is, you don't blame them for wanting an out, no one wants to be on a sinking ship.

Jehan was having one of those days and oh was it bitter. He managed to crawl out of bed without crying, scrub his teeth clean, and drag his comb through the tangles of his caramel hair. It was the seventh night in a row he was up until 3am sobbing about the same damn thing. Dysphoria, his Dad, Courfeyrac, the fact that he could feel himself slipping and slipping but no one was there anymore to grab his hand. Just being alive was such a chore, faking a smile was only bringing him closer to tears. Why wasn't anyone reaching out to him? Why was it that you could force a cheesy grin, but not happiness. 

The reflection in the mirror was becoming more and more unrecognizable. It was like he had forgotten what he liked about himself, he knew there once was a spark in there, but either it was gone or he just couldn't find it. That thing, whatever it was, terrified him now that it was gone. He didn't like himself anymore, how long would it be until his friends caught on that he was no longer worth it.

Day eleven of Courfeyrac having know sex. He had gone longer when he first started dating Jehan and you know, when he was like a baby, but something about the stress of the show combined with not getting to love Jehan in person everyday was making him crave sex. He was horny all the time. Knowing Jehan wouldn't be too thrilled, he resorted to internet porn and jacking off when he was certain Holland was in a deep sleep. Sure it was a bit sad, but this was Courfeyrac's life now. At least Jehan would be in New York soon so he could fuck him into a mattress. What kept him going was imagining Jehan moaning as he reached his climax, he looped that sound over and over, savoring how it started out soft and grew loud and uncontrolled. He visualized Jehan was his hair hanging free and his legs spread with hickies and soft nibble marks littering his freckled, naked body. 

Avoiding the fact that he just fantasized his way to a massive boner, Courfeyrac crawled out of the covers and rolled off the edge of the futon. He had lost the will to stick to some pretentious dietary plan Holland set up for him and dumped some frosted flakes on his face, hoping that at least a few would land in his open mouth. He didn't have rehearsal before the show, so he had plenty of time to meet up with the gang at the airport and engage in some quality fuckery with Jehan. 

"Good morning!" Holland chirped. Over the course of his short stay with Holland, Courfeyrac had become close with her. She was very touchy. Like almost creepily. Her hands wandered to low on his back and the heat of her suggestive whispers were more than friendly. To greet him, she hugged him from behind, her hands only adding to his arousal. "I have class today, but I can cuddle for a bit before I go." She murmured. Their friendship was in that place where cuddling was a daily occurrence. Surely Jehan wouldn't mind! 

"I got to go to the airport to meet up with my friends." He slipped out of her long, bony limbs that slung around his shorter body. "I'm leaving in like 5 minutes and I'm not dressed or pretty yet."

"You're always pretty, hots-stuff." She winked, corning him against a counter. "Look," Her eyes were downcast, her full lips nearly touching his and his fingers walked up his shoulder. "I know you're horny." She cooed. "I see you suffer, what you do late at night. I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't mind you partaking in some..." She trailed off steamily. "Stress relief." 

Courfeyrac's eyes bulged and he struggled out of her reach. "Woah!" Frantically, he backed away. "Believe it or not, not all bisexuals are cheaters. I love my boyfriend, like more than I knew people could. I'm sorry, Jehan is the best thing that's ever happened to me, I'm not looking to fuck it up with him." Despite the passion Courfeyrac expressed, Holland remained calm and cool, she leaned against the counter while she casually checked out her freshly painted nails. 

"Fine." She avoided eye-contact. "Suit yourself." As she stormed out, Holland let a bit of her rage escape. 

Well, that was special. Courfeyrac resumed his routine, he scurried of to the bathroom and sped through caring for his appearance. Because of Holland's little episode, Courfeyrac would show up at the airport a little layer than he'd like. "Um. Bye, I guess." He hollered on his way out of the door. 

The city was teaming with energy and loud, obnoxious sounds. This had been his home for the past week and a half, the excitement of the new setting had yet to wear away. Once he was out of his tight living-quarters, Courfeyrac could breath the smog filled air and enjoy the sights, the smells, everything the city has to offer. To say Courfeyrac loves New York would be an understatement. Taxis maneuvered through the heavy traffic, weaving across the pavement with practiced ease. "Taxi!" He screeched. A bright yellow vehical swerved to the curb to met Courfeyrac. He pulled the door open, admiring the checkered stripe and settled onto the leather seat. "JFK." He requested politely. Thankfully, New York hadn't rid him of those manners his mother worked for him to develop. 

The ticking of the meter soothed Courfeyrac into his fantasies about Jehan. He imagined him, skin glistening with sweat, sucking on his lips. To pass the time, he counted all the kinky places they could have sex in a mental list, scrolling through his mind. The back of the cab, the kitchen counter, the subway, a public bathroom. Hell, he was so horny he would fuck him in a dumpster. 

Okay, that one was a little too far. He needs sex. Now.

\-----

All the way to the airport, through security, during boarding, the flight and landing, Jehan felt numb. The background changed, but his blank expression never faltered. It wasn't that Jehan was numb, he was far from it. His heart throbbed with emotion, but he didn't want to be a bother to anyone, so he hid the pain deep in his withering soul. Maybe he'd be happier when he sees Courfeyrac. Something about the cheerful brunette was infectious and caused Jehan some temporary relief. 

Once they were off the plane and lugging their bags behind them, Grantaire strolled off with his arm around Enjolras, separating themselves slightly from the small group. Gavroche, who was being a little douche bag in his 'Seahorses Against Gender Norms' hoodie (another article of clothing rich boy Enjolras had spoiled him with) , ran about reeking havoc and being scolded by the one and only Eponine. Bahorel had much longer legs than Jehan and was far in front of the pack as he walked purposefully forward. Jehan was left in the dust, trying to to break down. Even if it was just for a bit, Jehan hated being alone when he was feeling especially down, it let him have too much time to think. 

The whole place may have been alive with buzzing tourists, but through the crowd, Jehan could easily spot the boy with the most lovely smile and beautiful eyes. Courfeyrac was his whole world. He was absolutely wonderful. Every detail perfect. His best feature was his confidence, closely followed by his humor, kindness and brightness. "Jehan!" He squealed, racing towards the him. Without hesitation, Courfeyrac scooped up Jehan and kissed him with all the raw passion and heat he could muster. "Uh! I love you, I love you, I love you!" He twirled Jehan around. "Did you miss me? I missed you! I already read all the poems you wrote me. Skyping you is defiantly not enough!" Courfeyrac went on babbling cutely, but Jehan zoned out with a content smile stretched across his face. Yes, Courfeyrac eased the pain. Still, the thoughts lurked, haunting him. Focusing was difficult with the constant negativity swirling in his mind.

"Jehan?" Suddenly he blinked back to reality. "Jehan are you listening?"

"Sorry!" He hated making people feel bad, especially those who made him happy. No one deserved his pain. Courfeyrac's expression of confusion and hurt melted away and was quickly replaced with his trademark smile. "I'm just spacing out a lot today, love." Courfeyrac grasped Jehan's hand before dragging him cheerfully along to greet his other visitors. He got a hug from everyone except Enjolras, who isn't into PDA. 

"Shall we go to my apartment?" Courfeyrac offered only to to Jehan's reddening ear. Something about the husky purr of his voice made Jehan realize this wasn't a friendly requested. Courfeyrac wanted to get down and dirty. Sex was fun, Jehan had to admit it. After developing a strong emotional bond with Courfeyrac, Jehan was able to enjoy it thoroughly and even get in touch with his kinky side, but today, his dysphoria was acting up. He didn't want to be naked and be confronted by the fact that he still has a penis. 

"Sex?" Jehan quirked his eyebrow. 

"Yes, that was what I was implying." Courfeyrac smirked. His touch was usually a welcomed feeling, but today it made made his skin crawl. It wasn't even Courfeyrac's fault, his body was not pnly against himself but against his boyfriend. 

"Courfeyrac, I just got here." He searched for an excuse.

"All the more reason to get it on." He winked. 

"Darling," Jehan began. "I love you dearly, but I'm just not in the mood." That was not a lie. Jehan was pretty proud of that one, truthfully. 

Dropping kisses on the top of Jehan's head, Courfeyrac resigned, "Fine. Maybe later." 

"Maybe." He knew later would have to be much later when the dysphoria was waning and his spirits were higher.

\---

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Courfeyrac flung his arms out proudly while he strolled into Holland's apartment. "One bedroom, one bathroom with a lovely futon claimed by yours truly, moi." He beamed at his guests. Eponine, Gavroche, Grantaire, Enjolas and Jehan all stood there, a little hesitant to advance. 

"Out of my way, bitches!" Suddenly, Bahorel parted the uncharacteristically quiet group and bolted up the stairs. "Piss is coming out of me. Like right now!" 

"The bathroom's just past the kitchen, Bahorel!" Courfeyrac called. "Now, shall we?" He lead the crew up the stairs to show off the modern decor and open concept of the apartment he was sharing with Holland. "This is really it. Not too big, but I like it." Jehan looked around at all the zesty colors. 

"Wow." Eponine nodded with a smirk. "Pretty nice. Now if you excuse me, I have to go out on the town immediately." She was right, they were in New York they needed to go soak it all in.

The set out in two separate groups. Grantaire, Bahorel, Eponine, and Jehan went to some art museum while Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Gavroche went straight for the Statue of Liberty. 

Courfeyrac was a little disappointed that he and Jehan had picked different tourist attractions, but he was confident that an art museum would get Jehan in the mood for some rough sex. "We meet back here at 3?" Enjolras glanced at his watch.

"I have to be at the theatre at 5, so that sounds good." Courfeyrac confirmed. The rest of the group agreed and dispersed. Enjolras should never ever be in charged of children. Ever. His first inclination when he grouped up with Courfeyrac and Gavroche to go to the Statue of Liberty was that Gavroche would be entertained enough by Courfeyrac's undying energy. Unfortunately, Courfeyrac couldn't keep Gavroche from raising havock.

He scrambled about as crowds of tourists flocked around to take pictures by the statue. Enjolras tried to catch up to him as best he could, but he was quicker and more agiled than Enjolras, he ducked under legs and rounded corners at rapid speeds which were unachievable by a grown man such as the leader in red. 

Of course he wasn't chasing after Gavroche the whole time. In fact, they had a nice time when they forst got thers and when they were touring the statu, but as soon as they started to the cab, hell broke loose. 

"Gavroche!" Enjolras called, panting. "Get your tiny, rebel ass back here!" 

"French revolution!" He taunted. "French revolution!" Enjolras was not sure why this was the mode in which Gavroche chose to teaae him, but it agrivated him just the sams. Anything Gavroche could say would annoy him in that moment. Even if he was screaming positive political messages like "Why have gender roles when we can have pizza rolls?"

Meanwhile, Courfeyrac was laughing at the display. He savored the sight of Enjolras's face heating to the color of his favorite red jacket and his hands reaching out to snag the little boy. 

"Gavroche! You are going to make Courfeyrac late for his show! Do you want that?" He finally threatened, standing still and authoritive. Gavroche suddenly urched to a hault and stomped back to Enjolras. 

"No." He grumbled. "I'll go back peacefully." He smirked holding out his arms so Enjolras could tug him behind him. 

"Good." He pulled Gavroche to walk with him to the cab Courfeyrac had climbed into. "Get in." He opened the door for the little rascal as Courfeyrac erupted in laughter,

"Shut the hell up." Enjolras growled. 

\---

It was well passed the time the art group had agreed to met back up at the apartment and Courfeyrac was forced to leave Gavroche and Enjolras alone together. Enjolras paced anxiously, his thumbs feverishly texting. First he texted Grantaire asking casually where they were and to make sure he wasn't dropping into his terrible side, he asked if they were having fun or if they saw any of Grantaire's favorite artists' works. He even addressed them by name. 

But when Grantaire didn't respond, he moved down the list to Jehan. Since it was his first text to the gentle poet, he remained calm. He told them they were back at the apartment with a snap shot of the statue of liberty attached and nonchalantly asked if they'd be back in time for Courfeyrac's show. But to no avail, Jehan must have been to occupied by oggling at some piece of look-for-the-hidden-meaning art. That was Jehan's way, digging deeper. Searching for motifs and symbolism with colors and brush strokes like he would with words in a poem.

Next, he texted Bahorel, not bothering to be charming. In all caps he wrote: 'WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!?!?!?' Again, no answer. 

Eponine was not an option as he did not have or wish to have her phone number. It was nothing personal, except for the fact that was entirely personal. Enjolras detests Eponine. Something about her brashness, the way she always makes eyes at Grantaire and Courfeyrac, and her blatant disrespect for everyone was not appealing to Enjolras. He struggled with his resentment towards her, but not liking one woman is not misogynistic, right? He likes Cosette. She brilliant and considerate all at once. Musichetta's fine too. Sure she's quiet the sexual being, but she has the right to have as much sex as she wants as long as it's all consensual. Unlike Eponine, she never tries to seduce people in a relationship and she's loyal and loving to her boyfriends. Eponine doesn't even treat one boyfriend right.

Combeferre, after all, is Enjolras oldest and closest friend. It hurt him to see Combeferre in pain. 

"You realize we've gotta leave like now to make it on time, 'ight?" Gavroche sat cross-legged on the futone.

"Yes, I do realize this, Gavroche and I am trying to organize this irresponsible group that seems to always be on their phones except for the one fucking time I actually need to reach them." Seeing Enjolras in this state was not pleasing Gavroche, even if he loves getting him a little agitated. 

Cautiously, Gavroche walked slowly over to Enjolras who was slumped over in a chair with his head in his hands. "Hey." Gavroche cooed. "I know you think you always have to lead this band of flaming homosexuals, but you don't. You can let them off on their own and they'll manage. Just focus on you for once. Take care of you." Gavroche sat next to him and slung his arm around him. "Now, let's go see that show."

"What about everyone else?" He lifted his head out of his palms.

"What did I just say?" Gavroche asked, disappointed. "Fuck em!" 

An unexpected smile crept on Enjolras's face. "You're a good kid, Gavroche." Then something, something a lot like pure magic happened. Enjolras pressed a kiss on Gavroche's forehead which was covered with a thin layer of shaggy hair. 

\------ 

Thankfully, not long after Enjolras and his little side-kick, Gavroche settled into their seats amidst the mass, Enjoras caught a glimpse of Bahorel stumbling through the meandering audience members. Eponine, who looked more angsty than usual, stomped behind him with Grantaire jogging in front of the pack. The little poet got distracted by a lovely old woman in a sparkling gown who was talking about her transition openly to a group of women.

"Enjolras!" Grantaire panted, suddenly at his aisle seat, leaning on the chair. "Enjolras, Enjolras! Babe, so sorry, we completely lost track of time! Thank you so much to keeping your freak out to a minimum, bro!" But when Grantaire leaned over to smoosh his chapped lips against Enjolras's porcelain skin, Enjolras dodged it. 

"'Bro'? 'Babe'?" Enjolras furrowed his brow in offense."I have a name, Grantaire." 

"Yeah," Grantaire quirked his eyebrow and looked to the upper right corner of the theatre. "I know, I said it like four times." 

"Three. I counted because I'm actually responsible and considerate and I care about our relationship." 

"Woah! Enjolras, where is this all coming from?" Sure, the couple had many a fight, but this didn't sound like annoyed or disagreeing Enjolras, this sounded real, like he was actually pissed. Grantaire knelt down to make the conversation a bit more intimate.

"And 'Freak out'? My caring about where you are and whether the man I love is safe is not a 'freak out', okay?" Enjolras's words always packed a punch, today was no different. 

"Seriously, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you." Grantaire was remaining as calm as he could but situations where Enjolras is mad always made Grantaire a bit frantic. 

"Yeah, well you did. It's real noble of you to apologize, but I'm stilll mad at you." Enjolras turned away as the friends filed into their seats, leaving Grantaire alone to explain himself. 

"Y'know, you're being a real douche right now." Grantaire mumbled. 

"Just returning the favor." Enjolras narrowed his always glistening blue eyes.

"Wow. Y'know what, babe, I don't need this!" Grantaire stormed down the aisle and approached a young woman sitting alone, admiring pictures of her cats in the photo holds of her pink, glittery wallet. "Excuse me, m'am, I was wondering if we could switch seats, my boyfriend is making a proper ass of himself." 

"Boyfriend?" The girl crinkled her nose. "Eh. I bought this seat for my imaginary friend, but he didn't show so you can just sit next to me." Enjolras watched Grantaire smile and accept the seat beside the crazy lady, graciously and shook his head scornfully. 

This was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys! Please comment all your thoughts and feels. I'll be able to wrap this one up over the summer, hopefully.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New York fun continues?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I have such limited internet right now.. oops! Anyhow! I hope you enjoy this because it was actually not a joy to write? I'm so excited for my next chapter though!
> 
> I'll include a life rant: My mom found my tumblr and forced me out of the closet and question me even when I was sobbing and begging her to stop. She thought my tumblr was super depressing so she confronted me about old feelings that I was over thinking she was going to make it better, but instead she mace me sob and delete my main source of expression so I'm sad again.

As Courfeyrac took his bow, Jehan stood enthusiastically applaud him. He had danced his little heart out and sung like an angel all the way through the performance. Even though Jehan hated thinking about losing Courfeyrac to the blinding spotlight, he could tell this was the start of a career for his boyfriend. He should at least try not be selfish and support him to the best of his abilities. 

After some more, well-deserved applause from the theatre fanatics in the audience, the cast disapeared in the wings and the curtain was pulled closed. Enjolras lead the group backstage as instructed by Courfeyrac for hugs and such. They made their way through the emotional crowd, Eponine insisting on holding Gavroche's hand the entire time, and Grantaire no where to be found. 

"Excuse us." Enjolras menouvered swiftly through to the audience-to-wing-entrance that was gaurded by a bulky man with a shiny bald head and a too tight black v-neck that displayed ever chiseled feature of his ripped physic. "Excuse me, sir, we're guests of Courfeyrac." Enjolras tried not to let his inner anger at Grantaire escape as he spoke, but god damn was it difficult. 

Thankfully, the security guard was aware that they'd be arriving. He slid aside, but before the they could awkwardly wonder backstage, looking for that lovable kid, Courfeyrac ran over to greet them. Still clad in his costume, he greeted Jehan with an enthusiastic kiss. The kind of kiss that really was to raunchy for the public and nit just because they were a same sex couple. The kind of kiss with teeth clashing together and lots of tongue. It was like Courfeyrac couldn't get close enough to Jehan. His hands wandered, wanting everything Jehan had to offer. 

"Did you like the show?" Courfeyrac asked, finally tearing away from the kiss with arousal glimmering in his lovely eyes. 

"It was amazing!" Gavroche piped up from the back of the crowd. 

"I thought you'd like it!" Courfeyrac rushed over to Gavroche and pulled him onto his shoulders. "It's a very Gavroche show, I think." Something about the positive, theatrically energy only boosted Courfeyrac's stunning joyfulness. He seemed really at home in the theatre surrounded by sweaty bodies and expensive bottled water. 

"Really?" Gavroche smiled.

"Would I lie to you?" Courfeyrac swung Gavroche off his back and gave his shaggy hair a firm ruffle. "So? Are you guys going to hug me or naw?" Courfeyrac spread his arms out to accept a hug from Eponine. She snuggled up against him, her head nuzzling against his chest as she cooed some nice words about his impressive performance. Bahorel shoved her aside when she had worn out her hug-time. The jolly brawler scooped Courfeyrac and gave him a good shake. 

"You're so fucking talent and I love you so much!" Bahorel chanted. 

"Thank you." Courfeyrac grinned, escaping his embrace with a laugh. "Enjolras, I believe you're next." Courfeyrac, the little devil, stretch out his arms and sauntered towards him. 

"No thanks, Courf." Enjolras backed away. 

"I won't take no for an answer, sweetheart." Courfeyrac gave him a wink before wrapping his arms around Enjolras. Being just about as cuddly as a cactus, Enjolras tensed at Courfeyrac's touch involuntarly. Sure, he loves Courfeyrac with his whole heart, but hugs? That's just not his style, thank you very much. 

"Your performance was inspiring." Enjolras croaked. "Now let go." 

"Fine." With a sigh, he released and looked at the group in satisfaction. It was sort of a shame that the whole group wasn't around to see his performance, but these guys were more than enough. What could be better than having his boyfriend, a handful of close buddies, his little guy, and his first best friend there? 

That's when it hit him. His first best friend wasn't there. "Um?" Courfeyrac scanned the crowd once again. "Where's 'Taire?" 

"He's off being a selfish prick." Enjolras grumbled. "I'm sorry about him, he doesn't understand his pettyness should not interfere with a night like tonight."

Everyone could tell by the way Courfeyrac's smile stayed firmly in place but his eyes started to frown that he knew Grantaire and Enjolras got into a fight and that he might be feeling the slightest bit guilty. Clearly, it's not Courfeyrac's fault they fought that night, but still.

"Well, I'll go change into my street clothes and we can all cram into the back of a taxi. How does that sound?"

"Will there be booze?" Bahorel chuckled. 

"You're a dope." Courfeyrac playfully pushed him backwards. "I'll be right back." Courfeyrac gave Jehan another especially needy kiss, hinting at the kind of attention he was craving. Jehan was not exactly in the mood for sex with his dysphoria at an all time high. 

"See ya!" Jehan waved nervously.

\----

Everything was annoying Grantaire. The pitchy cackling of a nearby Hispanic woman decked in plastic gold chains and fake turquoise stones drove him mad. Snoring from an old man who slept with his head on the table under a newspaper that was collecting drool, made Grantaire teeth clench. But pushing him over the edge was the sound of that damn air conditionor he was sitting next to that rattled inconsistentantly, only granting him relief for a brief moment when he punched it. 

And he slumped lower in his chair.

This was not a new thing for Grantaire, stumbling to a bar after a fight with Enjolras, getting as drunk as possible and then moodily sulking in a room of agrivating people and sounds as punishment, but it was the first time he had done it since he and Enjolras started dating.  
And he slumped lower in his chair.

Honestly, Grantaire was lucky to last so long without clinging to a bottle for support. Enjolras, bless his ill-tempered soul, didn't make it any easier on him. He liked holding a grudge until he could properly cool down. Unfortunately, the time Enjolras required to step back for a breather was enough time for Grantaire to wander off and chug his way to numbness. 

And he slumped lower in his chair.

To Grantaire, numbness was the best feeling. The pain would dissolve, and the tears were subconsious, and everything that hammered at his head, all the pressures and responsiblities and hate that caused him so much pain, just went away. And he could breath and laugh and have a good time.

And he slumped lower in his chair.

Tonight of course, Grantaire didn't have enough money on hand to aquire enough booze to dull the pain, so he was trapped in an angry drunk state, still aware enough to feel ashamed of himself and think of all the humiliating, dehumanizing ways Enjolras might break his heart when he crawls back to Courfeyrac's apartment in the morning. 

And he had no ability to slump and lower so he sat up right with his very best posture and started the process over again. 

"You okay, cutie?" A sweet little busty blonde with a distinct jaw line bent over to check out the cynic's displeased frown. 

"What d'you think!" He barked, trying in vain to drink out of a bottle he had already drained. 

"I think you could use a friend." She smiked, pulling up a chair across from him and straddling it with her chin resting on the back cutely. Through a cut-out in the chair, Gantaire saw the faint outline of an adams apple. This was definiately a drag queen.

Drag Queen's were intriguing to Grantaire. The way they walked, did their make-up and even held a conversation interested Grantaire. Sometimes he thinks he should give drag a try. 

"You're wrong. I don't need anyone. Especially not you." 

Looking slightly offended, the blonde collected her self. "Well then, I'll let that slide, seeing that you're very, very drunk." She was trying a little to hard to be a southern belle.

"Not drunk enough to want your company." He growled.

She shook her head and stood up. Then, she took his hand and tugged him upwards. "C'mon now, let's get you home."

Grantaire grunted something that might have sounded like him mentioning his super terrifying and gorgeous boyfriend to someone who wasn't already convinced they had him seduced since they walked in.

Although Grantaire lacked the energy to protest, he did not let it go unknown that he was not happy about her pulling him along. He stomped and moaned as she brought him out into the road where a light drizzle speckled his curly hair with gem-like beads of rain. With each corner they rounded came yet another snide comment about how God awful being around her was.

After a dreadful walk up uneven, carpeted stairs, they had arrived at the blonde's apartment. "Well, this is a shit hole." Geantaire complained despite the fact that whole apartment was delightful.

"Thanks." She said sarcastically, closing the door and watching Grantaire flopping on the couch haphazardly. Going to a strangers apartment wasn't a huge deal to Grantaire, being drunk makes everything seem like nothing big. The girl pulled a blanket over him and tucked him in tight.

"Where's Enjolras?" Grantaire asked delirously. 

"Shh." She cooed. "Don't worry about Enjolras."

"O-okay." He drifted away into a drunken slumber. 

For what seemed to be hours, Grantaire slipped in and out of conciousness, his thoughts reeling. Dreams of Enjolras screaming his throat bloody at Grantaire filled his unstable sleeping. And when he was awake, the guilt tore him apart. He was supposed to be a good boy for Enjolras so he would love him. How could he love him now that his old habits had him caught.

He was sweating. The kind of sweating that happens when you have a particularly nasty fever. It didn't surprise him that he was sick. He tended to grow ill when he was drunk, but it had been so long so he could actually distinguish the symptoms as feverish.

Trapped in a fever-dream, Grantaire kicked his blankets off, yelling about God knows what until the nightmare passed and he regained a calm slumber. 

 

"What the motherfuck is the love of my life doing in your God damn apartment?" Was the sweet roaring Grantaire woke up to. A livid, and sexy Enjolras was yelling at the poor girl and making violent hand gestures.

"Love of your life, huh?" Grantaire quipped groggily. Shifting, Grantaire sat up, revelling in Enjolras's deep red blush.

"I promise, sir, nothing happened." She shrieked. 

"You better fucking believe nothing happened! Now let me carry him back to my friend's apartment for the most kick-ass make up sex the world has ever know, please." Enjolras snatched up Grantaire. The harshness of his grip let Grantaire know that their make up sex was going to be Enjolras lecturing him while Grantaire is on his knees giving him a blow job. Good enough.

"I suppose this wouldn't be a good time to suggest a three-way?" The blonde asked hesitantly, earning a piercing glare from Enjolras.

"You look pretty, Enjolras." He grinned dumbly at his golden haired lover. How he adored that man who cradled him with his teeth firmly gritted. 

"You look shitty, Grantaire." And Grantaire gave a snort, thinking of how that was almost a Hot Rod reference. 

"I love you." 

"Unfortunetly, I love you more." Enjolras groaned. 

Slowly, he made the unsteady trek down the steps with a drunken Grantaire securely in his arms. He made a snide comment about the out-dated, green carpet under his breath. 

"Do you need help with the door?" The busty blonde called from her apartment.

Enjolras kindly replied with his middle finger, he was not pleased with that little lady. In an awkward attempt to exit, Enjolras quickly twisted the knob and used Grantaire's body to push the door open. 

His red Prius was parked out front, door still hanging open which seemed very reckless for Enjolras's taste given the dangerous street. "In." Enjolras commanded, shoving Grantaire in the back, not being careful about his limbs. 

Once he buckled his boyfriend in, Enjolras climbed up front and sped away. "Grantaire, tell me exactly why you decided it was a good idea to go home with a stranger." He made no attempt to mask his anger.

"I was drunk."

"Was?" Enjolras squeaked, infuriated. "There is no way that you sobered up. You're a mess, Grantaire, and you told me you had left that behind. You promised you wouldn't drink." 

Now Grantaire really delt like shit, Enjolras was in tears! A lot of people see Enjolras as this unhuman, gorgeous symbol of rebellion, which is all true, except the unhuman part. Sure he was absentee for a long time, and he devotes himself fully to his causes, but he is far from some unfeeling robot. Everything about him is passionate, he doesn't doing anything half way, including feelings. He expresses all his feelings when he speaks with the tremor of a hymn, when he encourages people to stand up and join him in fighting for a better world. Still, crying wasn't his thing. 

A few years back, when Bahorel's bunny died, (because "Damn straight I have a bunny! You mad, motherfucker?") the cute spotted one that everyone adored, Enjolras was the only one who didn't cry. And when Jehan read an original poem about his struggles with depression, Enjolras remained stone. But now, because of something stupid he did, Grantaire had made him cry.

"I know I promised!" Grantaire said, desperately. "I was just so angry and I didn't know what to do, so I drank because that's all I'm good for." At that, Enjolras slammed on the brakes ahd whipped around. 

"Don't say that! Don't even think it. You are the best thing in my life, you're good for everything. I love you, and I don't want you insulting what I love." Enjolras leaned over and kissed Grantaire's forehead. 

"Are you mad at me?" Grantaire whispered.

"Yes." Enjolras turned to the road and began driving again. "But I love you, so we're going to get past this, alright?" 

Grantaire liked that idea very much and he fell asleep with a content smile spread across his face. 

\---

Jehan was worried. He had made it all the way into his pajamas, into the bed, and five pages into his book without being humped, he could feel his luck running out. Soon the dim light would be flicked off and Courfeyrac's hands would start to explore Jehan's body, with or without permission. 

Holland was out tonight and planned on sleeping over at a friend's house, so she gladly let Courfeyrac use his bed for sexy-time, provided he wash the sheets. 

Even though Jehan was sure Courfeyrac would refrain from fucking him if he asked, he thought he should probably just let him. Courfeyrac was horny, no doubt, and he'd been working so hard... it just seems a little rude to deny him sex. But then again, he had to think about himself and how he did not want to be naked, let alone have sex. 

But in that moment, he tried to just focus on his book, to dive in and not think about the world outside of it. He tried his best to step into the shoes of the characters instead. It was his only escape. 

"Hey, babe." It was Courfeyrac, clad only in a short, green robe. Jehan green even. 

Wow he must want him bad.

"Whatcha readin'?" He asked, snuggling up next to him. 

"It's just some book Combeferre lent me." Jehan flashed him the cover. "I was going to start it on the plane, but the toddler behind me thought otherwise." His little joke gave Courfeyrac a chuckle, Jehan wasn't sure if he was laughing in sincerity or if he was just trying to get in his pants. The hand caressing his thigh was a dead give away: his joke was lame; Courfeyrac just wants some action. 

At first, he didn't fight it. Maybe Courfeyrac would wise-up and notice Jehan's discomfort, even if he wasn't making it obvious. 

"I've missed you." He whispered in a low, husky voice. Courfeyrac's intentions had been made very clear with his efforts in seducing Jehan.

"I missed you too." Jehan tried to think of something that wasn't sexy to kill the mood Courfeyrac was trying so hard to set. "It's hard to keep an intelligent conversation that isn't centered around boyfriends in that house. All Marius can talk about is Cosette's yeast infection." 

"Ooh!" Courfeyrac's eyes lit up. In what sick world did that excite someone? "Marius and Cosette are having sex?" 

"Well, obviously not at the moment." Jehan rolled over. 

"Touchy, touchy." He teased. "You know, we could be having sex right now. Some one should be."  
Now was his chance to break the news to Courfeyrac: there'd be no sex tonight.

"About that." He slowly sat up. 

"Jehan?" Courfeyrac shifted out of his lying position. "Jehan, what's wrong?" He asked as Jehan cradled his knees. 

"I just-"

"Jehan, you can tell me anything."

"I'm dysphoric, and sad, and I don't want to have sex with you tonight." He blurted out with tears gathering in his eyes.

"W-why not?" Courfeyrac didn't sound mad, just extremely disapointed which made Jehan feel even worse.

"Nevermind, love. It's nothing." Jehan kissed Courfeyrac on the tip of his slightly up-turned nose. "If you want to have sex, we will." 

That wasn't good enogh for Courfeyrac, Jehan could tell by the way his expression did not waver from unimpressed. No matter how badly he wants sex, Courfeyrac's a gentleman, through and through. He couldn't possibly pressure Jehan into anything he wasn't up for. 

Even if Jehan didn't want this, he had to convince Courfeyrac he did so he wouldn't feel bad about letting out some supressed sexual energy. He started by sucking on Courfeyrac's neck. Gently and cleanly at first, escalating slowly a rougher, sloppier setting. He gripped Courfeyrac's thin V-neck with one fist and let his other hand venture through Courfeyrac's wild curls. Slowly, Jehan's hand slid down Courfeyrac's abdomen to stroke his thigh. 

"Jehan, you don't have to do this." Courfeyrac pulled away only to be yanked closer. 

"But I want to!" Jehan lied.

"No, you don't!" Courfeyrac's voice raised. "And then when I take advantage-"

"It wouldn't be taking advantage-"

"-You'll get pissed at me." He resumed. 

"I would not!! 

"Really?" Courfeyrac said, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "So if I shoved my hand down your pants, without your permission, you wouldn't get mad?"

"But I'm giving you permission! Courfeyrac, put your hand down my pants!" He reached for Courfeyrac's hand and manipulated it to squeeze into Jehan's pajama bottoms, under his panties. "See?"

Disguisted, Courfeyrac ripped his hand out. "Jehan, I'm not some sex-addict, I don't need you to let me rape you. For fuck's sake, have some self-respect, I can handle it!" 

By the way Courfeyrac stormed out, slammed the door behind him and knocked over some vase in the hall, Jehan could tell he had screwed up. Big time. 

\-----

The cold of the night air welcomed Eponine like an old friend as she stepped out onto the balcony. Something about the never ending sound and the forever shining lights made Eponine want to run off into the night, and never come back.

She had dug quite a hole for herself. First of all, she was becoming the biggest bitch of all time because she can't control her God damn jealousy. In honesty, she didn't ever really like Combeferre, he's a nice guy and all, but he's boring, plain and just not right for her. But she'd gladly date him if it meant her little brat sister couldn't have him. She couldn't even pin-point a reason why she doesn't want her sister to be happy with Combeferre. It could be her protective instincts, but that's highly unlikely. Maybe she thinks Azelma is a threat, and if she gets Combeferre, the group will gravitate towards her and leave Eponine alone. 

Yep. That's the one.

She just doesn't want to end up alone. She can already feel Grantaire and Courfeyrac, her main connection to the gang, slipping away. Sure, Musichetta and Cosette like her well enough, but their not really in the group enough to secure her a spot at meetings or friends to fill her time. 

Grantaire has been so focused on Enjolras and bettering himself so he won't lose his precious boyfriend to alcohol or failing grades, Eponine can't really blame him for his time being a bit diverted as of late. And Courfeyrac has Jehan, school, and the show now leaving no time for former best friends. 

There was no way she was going to phased out. She needed a plan. A plan to insure her place in the group. She could bring something new to the table at a meeting, therefore assuming a position of leadership with her cause. Joly did that once with some sort of bacteria outbreak in a remote, third-world country. When ever they discussed that issue, Enjolras would step aside and let Joly take the reigns. Not only did they raise awareness and funds, Joly's popularity increased. It was subtle, but he definately wasn't going to be phased out. 

With that plan, all she'd need was a cause. Something that she was passionate about to catch Enjolras's attention. Unfortunately, social activism or the pursuit of justice was never Eponine's thing. Back to the drawing board. 

There was one thing that could easily put her center-stage in the group. But it had the potential of getting her kicked-out completely. For some reason, Eponine thought it might be worth the risk. God, she must be drunk. 

Her plan: Have an affair.

With someone, anyone in the group. Perhaps she could turn her attention towards that drop-dead-gorgeous Cosette, she had been meaning to try her out for a spin. Besides, she had been crushing on her ever so slightly since they got arrested. The drama created by lesbian energy conbined with Marius's heart-break could totally shift their attentions to Eponine. She take that opprotunity to gain sympathy with the queer kids, saying that she was just expirementing and never meant to hurt anyone. It was fool-proof! 

As soon as she got back, she would beginning seducing Cosette. For now, she'd just soak in the industrial beauty of the New York skyline.

Suddenly, the sliding door was slid violently open by a very angry Courfeyrac. "What's got your panties in a twist?" 

"Jehan." He spat.

"I told you he'd just bore you to death." Courfeyrac walked next to her and gripped the iron rail. "Seriously, I can't sit through a single poetry read, how can you stand him always spouting out quotes by dead people?" 

"Some of them are actually really nice." Courfeyrac mumbled, kicking pebbles off the balcony. 

"Oh God, Courfeyrac, the kid's turned you!" Eponine teased with a playful wack to his arm. "Seriously though, what's wrong?" She crouched below him a bit to get a better read of his facial expression. 

"I just want sex, that's all." Courfeyrac huffed.

Just then, Eponine got an even more sinister plan, one she could carry through right now while she was still drunk. 

"Well, why didn't you just ask?" She smirked, touching him like she owned him. 

"'Ponine? What're you doing?" Courfeyrac ventured cautiously. 

"I'm being a good friend and giving you what that prude of a poet can't." With that, Courfeyrac followed Eponine inside where she snagged a few bills from a jar that Holland kept full of cash on the counter for their cab fare and just enough for the crappiest motel in town. 

It had been decided: Eponine and Courfeyrac were going to have sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeling?


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad fic gets sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey team! I wanted this to be posted Thursday but my lack of internet had other plans. I promise it was done then, but I guess that really doesn't matter to you, does it? Anyways, I've been super productive lately! Like I did this chapter AND another chapter for my Les Mis Big Bang thing! If you don't know what that is, find them on Tumblr!

It was one of those delightfully rare moments in Combeferre's life when all was still. No baby crying, no couple having loud sex in a neighboring room, no teenage mother in need of comfort, just undisturbed peace under his sheets. Azelma's light, rhythmic breathing droning was all he could hear. Though he wasn't sleeping, this rest was very important. It was only a matter of time before the baby would need tending to, or someone in the house would feel horny, or Azelma would wake up from a nightmare that brought back the memories. 

Or his phone would ring, a sound that could trigger all three (It sounded like a beeper! Joly likes beepers) 

Luckily, even in the midst of his drowsiness, Combeferre was able to smack his hand around on the end table and snatch up his glowing phone. On the screen, a cute selfie of Jehan from high school (taken before selfies were cool or Combeferre owned an Iphone against Enjolras's wishes) where he had his wavy caramel hair down, topped by a flower crown. He remembered how Jehan was in high school. How he would show up in Combeferre's room unannounced from the window when things were bad in his head or the bullying was unbearable. A picture of him so happy from that time was rare. 

"Hello?" Combeferre whispered grogily.

"Do you think 14 texts is clinging?" Jehan dove right into the conversation without a good morning or an apology for waking him. 

"What?" Combeferre saw Azelma shifting, so he slipped on the slippers Feuilly had made him during his time at the craft store. The colors were an awful mix of mustard yellow, lavender, vomit green and flecks of orange, and yet Combeferre found them on his feet every morning to get his coffee. 

"14 texts, I mean I already sent him 13, so what's one more?"

"Who?"

"Courfeyrac?"

"Courfeyrac?" Combeferre snuck out to the kitchen as he pulled on his purple robe and padded out to the coffee machine. 

"Yes, Courfeyrac. We had a fight and-" 

"Wait, you guys had a fight?" Combeferre asked while poking at the coffee machine. 

"Unfortunately. He was rather horny and I-" Jehan stopped himself. "I wouldn't put out."

That pissed Combeferre off. A lot. "You're telling me that he's mad at you because you wouldn't put out?"

"Not exactly." 

Combeferre finally got Joly's piece of crap coffee machine to spit out some highly caffinated, bitter liquid into his 'Look out for your sisters, not just your cis-ters.' mug. His usual spot in the early morning hours on the armchair was occupied by a sleeping Marius. 

"What happened?" Combeferre rolled his eyes at the freckled boy curled on his chair. He must have upset Cosette which he had been doing a lot lately now that they had become sexually active. 

"Well I told him I didn't want to have sex, but then I decided I should just do it, so I did my-" He trailed off again.

"Your?" He prompted.

"This is going to sound dumb but I have routines for getting into Courfeyrac's pants." Jehan was never very sexy by nature, he worked very hard to be sexually stimulating for his sex-guru of a boyfriend. Before they first had sex, Jehan spent weeks watching porn and figuring out how to start things off. He memorized ten different ones as to not bore Courfeyrac with one or two routines. 

"Alright?"

"He got all mad because I made it seem like I thought he was a sex-addict or didn't have self-control." Combeferre and Courfeyrac were great friends, Courfeyrac may not be a prude, but he has control and he's proud of his gentlemanliness. No wonder he was mad.

"So I assume he ran off?" Combeferre sat on the couch, sipping on his less than satisfactory coffee. 

"Yes. Should I text him again? I mean Bahorel's no help with relationship issues, and Grantaire and Enjolras have had no luck with anyone but each other, and Eponine's no where to be found." He hated that Jehan and Courfeyrac were fighting. Inter-friend-circle dating was big with the clan and still it made Combeferre nervous, he didn't want a break up to rattle and divide their already fragile group. 

"I wouldn't, he's probably sleeping." Combeferre reminded.

"What'd you mean? It's 10 o'clock, Courfeyrac has a pre-show rehearsal soon." Right, time difference.

"Fair enough. If you don't' mind, seeing that I've given my advice, I think I'll take a shower. Call me when you get a hold of him, alright?" Combeferre gave up on drinking the rancid coffee and drained it in the sink.

"Alright, I will." Jehan sighed. "I love you, 'Ferre. You're my best friend."

With a stupid smile, he responded, "I love you, Jehan." 

\------------------  
13 texts.

Jehan had sent him 13 texts before he had even cracked his eyes open. And they weren't short, or angry, they were long and poetic and full of regret that latched onto Courfeyrac without a hitch. 

Good morning, love. My apologies for what happened last night, I wasn't being fair to you. Seeing you upset, made me realize how awful I was. You're beautiful light erupting into a raging flame is my greatest sadness, dear. Please tell you're okay and come back to me soon.

Dear, I understand I may have ended my day in the sun, my time with the love of my life, but please darling, I need to know you are okay.

I have a poem for you, love. 

The sun was flooding the garden with gold with his morning rise. His arms reached out to embrace the flowers each day. His lips kissed the soil, giving life to the seeds below. His eyelashes batted drops of his heat onto the growing trees. And after a storm, he returned, giving more of himself to the garden. His only request was the garden never stop blooming, then he'd never leave. But what if one day the sun refuses to set the garden ablaze with it's radiance? What if he never embraced the flowers again? What if his lips never kiss the soil again? What if his eyelashes never bat heat onto the trees again? Then the storms would come and pound on the garden without the relief of the sunlight. The garden would cling on, fighting so that one the sun will return and the garden will flourish. But if the sun breaks his promise, the garden must too.

Sorry, that was sloppy! Please, come home.

Now you have me worried, beautiful. I fear you're not ignoring me, but that you're hurt.

Are you with Eponine? I worry for her too. New York is a big city, it could swallow the girl up. 

Courfeyrac, please. I love you far too much to lose you.

Come home, my heart is too full to express my regret in words.

I'm getting clingy, but that's only because I'm desperate. And I'm getting desperate because I can't lose you.

I can't take this, my love.

I'm begging you. Just come home so I can try to make this up to you.

Do you need me to come get you? Because I will. I'll drive as far as you want.

I 've been in love. I've fallen for the moon and the stars twinkling at her side. I've swooned for the flowers. I've longed for the autumn leaves and the crisp fall air. I've lusted for the ocean, from shore to shore. I've felt regections sting when I was not granted these after I had bowed my head and prayed for the objects of my affections, but then my heart, with all it's innocence remaining, found you. Better by far you were than the moon and her stars, or the flowers, or the autumn leaves and air, or even the ocean from shore to shore. And I then discovered why God refused my requests, He had someone even more lovely planned for me. 

It was pretty understandable that Courfeyrac felt like a complete dick. He stormed out on the poor boy, cheated on him, and worried him into poetry! Eponine was still cuddled up against him, both of their clothes were in a pile on the floor and the sheets were wadded up at the foot of the bed. 

Somehow, Eponine had tracked down the cheapest get-away, including cab fare. They rushed up the stairs and didn't hesitate to dive right in. Courfeyrac wondered if she was feeling guilty, it wasn't just him who was being disloyal to their boyfriend. Was Combeferre sending her cute good morning text right then? Would she read them and sob, making Courfeyrac swear to keep this a secret. Then he remembered, she was a horrible girlfriend.

"You awake?" She yawned, stretching her boney limbs off of her prey.

"I wish I wasn't." His phone suddenly slammed against the floor, startling Eponine.

"Why'd you throw your phone?" Eponine rubbed her dark eyes into focus. 

"Cuz I'm the worst fucking boyfriend in the history of ever." In one violent motion, Courfeyrac leapt over Eponine and was on the floor. Her eyebrows quirked up at him quizzically and she tossed his clothes at him.

"Well don't get pissy!" She hissed in a sudden demeanor change. "Put your pants back on so I can ask you what's got your panties in a twist."

Not impressed with his old friends bitter wit, Courfeyrac pulled his underwear over his hips. "Wow." Eponine smirked at him. "You're actually putting on panties?" 

Courfeyrac looked down to see he was wearing Jehan's green panties. He remembered slipping them on last night before he tried to get Jehan in the sack so Jehan could understand why Courfeyrac was so turned on by those panties. Now that Eponine saw them, they were ruined.

"Eponine, I really don't have time for your suggestive looks and your sass." He feverishly stepped into his jeans and looped his belt around his waist.

"Ouch." Slowly, Eponine sat up and pulled her hair into a ponytail. "That's some morning glory you got there, babe."

"Seriously, 'Ponine, stop. I don't want to have sex with you. I already feel like shit."

It was too bad that Eponine was very horny that given morning. Her hand began palming her breasts until her nipples hardened. For not having much breast to work with, Eponine put on quiet the show, she was rough at the right moments and soft at the perfect times. 

"Come on, babe!"

A scowl on his face, he shot, "No. Have some self control." With that, he stormed out. 

\------

You know that feeling when you're with your very best friend and all you do is throw around inside jokes and have a great time? Or what about the feeling of seeing your boyfriend and you have to restrain yourself to keep from groping him? Have you ever felt both of those at once? That's Bahorel and Feuilly's relationship in a nutshell. 

Between Feuilly's shifts, the two had scheduled Skype dates. Feuilly would steal Combeferre's fancy laptop and sneak off to his room, locking the door. Since Bahorel was in such tight living quarters, he would hide away in the bathroom with the laptop his richy-rich white parents bought him. When someone knocked, Feuilly would call from Bahorel's screen: "Trying to romance my boyfriend here!" and Bahorel would grin ear-to-ear.

Today's most convenient time for a date was during Feuilly's lunch break. Bahorel shot him a call and was answered by a tired man with a sandwich shoved in his mouth in a dark, industrial break room without any windows. Feuilly was in his usual plaid button down with one of Bossuet's vests- that was way too big for an underweight twig like him- zipped over it. Flat, style-less strands of red hair hung out of his favorite baseball cap. Bahorel noticed beads of sweat collecting on his creased forehead. 

Yep. He was looking hot.

"Digging that look on you, Feu." Bahorel teased, feeling much better about showing up in a basic wife-beater. 

"Shut up." He answered as his dinky sandwich churned in his mouth. As if to make him even less sexy, a bit of sandwich flew at his camera. "Sorry." He grumbled, wiping away the splotch. Holding in his laughter, Bahorel pressed on.

"How's work?"

"A living hell. I've been restocking shelves all day." His teeth ripped his food. "You better come home quick cuz I could use a massage." 

"I know, man. You work so hard and come home with know one to fuck you." Bahorel was getting straight into trying to get cyber-lucky. 

"I love our new dynamic Bahorel. It's like best-bros who fuck." Feuilly smirked. 

"Homosexuality is fucking awesome in that way." Bahorel winked. 

Feuilly agreed, fooling around with hot girls couldn't hold a candle to banging your best bro. "Bromosexuality." He corrected playfully. "Hey, Jehan called."

Bahorel rolled his eyes at the sudden subject change. He was sincerely hoping they could have some fun on camera. "Is he still looking for Courf?"

"I don't know, you're the one who's actually there. Apparently Combeferre is really worried that something bad happened." Feuilly added, absent-mindedly fiddling with the straw in his soda can. 

"Does he think Courfeyrac's- you know-" Bahorel hated the thought of their groups center laying dead in an alley way. Not only would he lose an amazing friend, and the world would lose a beautiful person, but the entire group would unravel without that lovable chump. 

"No, Combeferre thinks Courferyac may have- y'know, considering Eponine is also missing- he may have, but I think Courf is a lot better than that- but I guess you never really know..." Clearly, Feuilly didn't like this theory either.

"Are you trying to say that Courfeyrac had sex with Eponine?"

"I-it's a possibility."

\-----

Courfeyrac was scrambling to find a taxi when he finally got a call from Jehan. Up until then, Jehan had only bombarded him with texts, so Courfeyrac answered it. He owed it to the poor kid.

"Jehan!" He panted. "Jehan, hey!" Courfeyrac ran his fingers throw his hair.

"Oh, Courfeyrac! Where are you- never mind that, just get home so I can cuddle you before I kill you! You had me worried sick!" He squeaked. 

"I'm sorry, babe! I promise, I'll be back before you know it." The guilt choked him, making communication difficult. 

"I love you." Jehan gushed.

"I love you too." Courfeyrac sniffed before hanging up. He tried to wave down a taxi as fast as the busy city would allow him. It wasn't easy. Taxis came and went, picking up strangers, pulling out into the crowded streets. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a boney, little figure climbing into the back of a Taxi. 

It was Eponine.

There was absolutely no way in hell Courfeyrac was going to let Eponine beat him back. What if she said something to be spiteful? What if Jehan found out? What if he couldn't explain himself? What if Jehan left him? Courfeyrac's very world would collapse. He couldn't let Eponine destroy what he had with Jehan. He didn't even know he could love a person the way he loves Jehan.

"Taxi!" He screeched, tears coming to his eyes. This was not happening. He did not fuck up this bad. A yellow cab pulled up in front of Courfeyrac and he hopped aboard. After sniffling out his address, the driver floored it, as if he knew that Courfeyrac was in a hurry. 

Courfeyrac knew the city fairly well, but he couldn't distinguish any part of it with his vision blurred by tears. All he wanted to do was get far way from the situation, even though this taxi was only bringing him closer to it. 

He nearly didn't recognize his apartment when the driver shouted, "Get out." Courfeyrac hesitantly hobbled out of the car and crawled up the stairs after tossing the driver some cash without counting it. 

It was certain that Eponine was already there, whether or not she had blown their secret was yet to be seen. 

"I'm here!" He hollered from the door. When no one immediately hugged him or started yelling at him, he wandered up the stairs. The whole place was silent. Everyone else must have left or hid in the bedroom because Jehan sat in the couch alone. He was sitting cheerfully in criss-cross-applesauce like usual, his feet were planted on the ground, his legs apart. He looked like Grantaire the way he hunched over, his elbows pressed into his thighs and how his face was buried in his hands.

Either someone died, or he knew. As bad as it sounds, Courfeyrac prayed for the former. 

"Hey." Courfeyrac joined him on the couch. Jehan did not move. He refused to. "I think there's something we've got to talk about."

"Oh! You think?" Jehan gave up on ignoring him and uncovered his face. Apparently Eponine had gotten there sooner than Courfeyrac thought by the looks of Jehan's red eyes. Courfeyrac never wanted to make Jehan cry. "I've already heard enough!" Jehan spat, standing up so he could pace.

"She told you?" Courfeyrac looked at him pleadingly. 

"Why, what're you talking about Courfeyrac? No one's told me anything!" Jehan said sarcastically. It was a strange thing to hear Jehan use sarcasm, and to be so angry. "Of course she told me!"

"Jehan," Standing, Courfeyrac tried to grab Jehan.

"Did you just think y-you could show up here, and-and make it all go away with your dopey smile and some cutesy little apology?" Jehan tried his hardest not to break down as he scolded Courfeyrac. He wasn't doing so hot.

"No." He insisted. "But I thought better of you, Jehan. This isn't you, all this getting mad and sarcastic."

"Yeah? Well maybe I'm tired of being pushed around because I don't get angry. I'm down being calm, and just taking everyone's shit." Jehan's lip was quivering.

"You don't mean that." There was a pause. Jehan's face melted from furious to shattered.

"I know." He plopped on the couch. "Courfeyrac, you have broken my heart. You were my reason to smile, and now I can't even look at you without crying."

"Jehan, I fucked up." Courfeyrac put simply as he sat down with him. He wasn't very good with words like the poet, all he could do was tell the truth, no fluffy adjectives or metaphors. Just facts and shaky attempts at expressing his feelings. "And if you could forgive me-"

"Woah!" Jehan popped back to his feet. "There is no way that I could go back to you." And out-of-character-furious-Jehan was back. "Not after what you did."

"But love, Jehan, love!" Courfeyrac blubbered, staggering off the couch.

"I don't even know what that is." Jehan's nostrils were flared. "I thought I did. But, Courfeyrac, this is not love. This has never been love, this will never be love. This was just a waste of feelings and time."

"Not to me." He admitted meekly. "You taught me what love was. And I read your poems, I know I did too."

"Courfeyrac." He whispered mournfully. "I can't." 

That was it, Courfeyrac, who was already crying, broke down, falling into Jehan's arms. He buried his face in Jehan's fluffy sweater and inhaled his sweet, flowery scent. "Please." He quivered one last time. "You are the love of my life." 

"Were." Jehan corrected, intentionally wounded the broken man in his arms. "You can't just fix everything like this, Courfeyrac!" He shoved him off. 

"But why can't I try?" Now Courfeyrac was shouting. "I ruined this and now I'm looking to fix it."

"You can't! It's done! I should have known anyway, you being-"

"If you say bisexual, I will explode. Do not blame my sexuality for what I did. This has nothing to do with my bisexuality!" Courfeyrac was getting defensive. He always knew Jehan was uncomfortable with Courfeyrac's sexuality, but he just blew it off as a silly insecurity, not prejudice. 

"Oh, than why was it with a woman?" Jehan narrowed his eyes at a speechless Courfeyrac. "That's right, because you're bisexual!" He squealed. "Y'know, they all warned me, everyone of our friends. Even Grantaire! They told me not to get to attached or better yet, get out of it quick because sooner or later, you were going to break my heart. I guess they were right! I was so fucking wrong about you."

"Jehan," Courfeyrac rasped. 

"No!" He snapped. "I'm outta here! And here-" Jehan tossed Courfeyrac a book that was laying on the coffee table. It wasn't just any book, it was the book that Jehan kept a secret and stuffed poems, treasures, pictures and all sorts of things in the pages of the leather bound journal. "I worked on that since high school, I was supposed to give it to my husband on our wedding day, given that I just lost who I was meant to be with, you can just take it, I'm going home."

With book in hand, Courfeyrac watched Jehan take his jacket, bags and leave. It was really over. He finally ruined everything, sure he thought they had a better chance with Jehan than Grantaire had with Enjolras, but what did he know? He was the one who cheated on his one and only. Before he was dating Jehan, he thought he was happy. But then, after he had Jehan, he realized he never knew the meaning of happiness. He didn't want to go back to his pathetic life of one-night stands and meaningless flings. All he wanted was his star back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 quick things:  
> 1 D3R has written a thing! And better yet a thing in her College Boys and High School Girls universe which remains my all time favorite fanfic. She's seriously amazing, guys. If you haven't checked her out, do it. And since the main fic in the universe is done, you don't have to wait on pins and neatles like I did for updates, just be pleasantly surprised when she builds onto the universe  
> 2 All or Nothing, an idea from a Tumblr post about an extroverted, flirty asexual and a super shy pansexual living together, is going to be a thing on YouTube, check it out. https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/all-or-nothing-web-series#home  
> That's there site. ^  
> 3 The comments and kudos on this fic are balanced! Even though that is magical, let's mess that up. Keep your love coming!


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't posted in so long! I'm so busy and I've been meaning to write but I got caught up with big bang and I'm uninspired by this anymore and ugh! I probably won't be posted again until October... sorry!

Jehan had thought he hit rock bottom before his trip to New York, but when he walked inside the dark house alone, he realized that he wasn't even close then. He caught an early flight so he wouldn't have to spend anymore time with Courfeyrac. In vain, he tried to persuade his friends to head out early as well. Everyone chose the glitz and glamour of New York and their precious Courfeyrac over Jehan and it broke his already crippled heart.

Sluggishly, he made his way upstairs. His flight was not at an ideal time to begin with, but adding that three hour layover stretched his traveling even further into the night. By the time he was tucked in his too-big bed with nothing warm to cling to, it was past midnight.

Fading in and out of nightmare after nightmare, Jehan tossed and turned, never leaving his respective side as if his lover was asleep at his side. Each time, without fail that he woke, he convinced himself that everything Courfeyrac had done was apart of his nightmare, then he'd sob because he knew it wasn't true. He wanted it to be. He wanted to wake up and have Courfeyrac holding him like he used to having never gone to New York and never cheated. Jehan liked to think Courfeyrac wished for the same. 

 

"Jehan?" A groggy voice shook him into consciousness from behind the door.

"Courfeyrac?" Jehan asked hopefully. The door crept open, only adding to the illusion that nothing had happened. The figure standing in the dark hallway was too tall be Courfeyrac. By the glare of glasses and his build, Jehan could tell it was Combeferre who had called for him.

"What're you doin' home s'early?" Combeferre's speech was slurred in between the severity of Grantaire's speech when drunk and the subtle laziness of completing words of Gavorache. 

Jehan didn't even think about how this would effect Combeferre. Eponine was kind of his girlfriend after all. Breaking the news to Combeferre was not going to be a walk in the park. "I couldn't stay there." 

"Why not?" 

"Something- something very bad happened." Jehan felt his face heat and tears gather in his eyes. 

"Oh my God! S'everyone okay?" Alarmed, Combeferre sat on the foot of the bed.

"That depends."

"Is everyone alive?" He demanded.

"Yes."

"Everyone's parts intact? Nothing broken?"

"Not really." Jehan broke down. Combeferre instinctively took Jehan in his arms and hushed him.

"It's okay, I'm here. " He kissed Jehan's cheek. "I'm here." He repeated. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Jehan clutched the blanket as his sobbing raged on. Thankfully, Combeferre was patient enough to wait for him to settle down enough to explain exactly what was up. 

"My heart, 'Ferre! He broke it!" Jehan clung to Combeferre's masculine build needily. "Courfeyrac and Eponine had sex!" That was it. Combeferre was done with Eponine. Everything he thought he could finally depend on was just obliterated with that one statement. It was so over. He was done with this. Not just with Eponine, but with woman as a whole. Maybe he needed someone different. Someone like Jehan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> So glad you are interested in this fanfiction! I hope you continue reading, the fun has just begun! Tell me what you want to read in the comments below. Not only does it give you what you want but it inspires me and gets me to update quicker. If you haven't given me kudos, I encourage you to because it would be swell. Thanks!


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